Survivor: Vampire Island
by Lion in the Land
Summary: It's Cullen versus Cullen and Hellsing versus them all in an unprecedented season of Survivor. Just when you think you have the game figured out, it'll take a dark twist that NO ONE will see coming. Reader participation! Hellsing/Twilight/Survivor
1. Welcome to Vampire Island

Survivor: Vampire Island

DISCLAIMER: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kouto Hirano and Shonen Gahosha Co. LTD./Hellsing K.G; Twilight and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyers and Little, Brown and Company; Survivor is the property of CBS Broadcasting Inc. and Mark Burnett Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just trying to have a little fun.

Chapter 1

Welcome to Vampire Island

"Welcome to Survivor: Vampire Island, where ten vampires and two humans will battle it out to see who has what it takes to be the last one standing. For the next several days, these twelve will exist on a remote island in the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Brazil. The elements are harsh, and the living conditions sparse, but even if they manage to survive the environment, will they be able to survive each other? Find out on the new season of…Survivor."

This speech has been made by a dark-haired, rather diminutive figure clad in khaki cargo shorts and a dark blue, button-down camp shirt. He's standing on a sandy beach in front of an odd assortment of people. Dotted around the perimeter of this unlikely group are three men with large television cameras. One of the cameras is currently pointed at a group of eight very pale people standing slightly off to the small man's right. They are casually dressed in an array of expensive-looking street clothes and bathing suits. There are exactly four men and four women, all very attractive.

Another camera is pointed at a small group of four people standing slightly off to the little man's left. Compared to the relatively mainstream appearance of the group of eight, these four look like something straight out of some kind of demented Japanese manga. At the back of the group is an unnaturally tall man with long, wild, black hair. If his height didn't already draw enough attention, his flamboyant red trench coat and matching wide-brimmed hat would seal the deal. In front of him, not even reaching his shoulder, is a petite, blonde girl with a messy ponytail. She's wearing a…a…is it a police uniform? The incredibly short skirt, thigh high nylons and blouse that is just about to burst its buttons under pressure of an enormous pair of bosoms would indicate that perhaps she works as a stripper on the side and naughty police girl is her shtick. These two are also very pale skinned.

Two comparatively peachy-complected individuals complete the group of four. One of them appears to be a woman with straight, blond, waist-length hair, but she's wearing a very mannish suit as well as a stern countenance. The final contestant is by far the eldest looking. He is thin, wrinkled and dressed from head to toe as a proper English butler in suit and tie.

High in the powder blue sky, the sun breaks free of a fluffy, white cloud and everyone on the beach squints for a brief second. They're not so much squinting at the sun's brightness as at the phenomena that has just broken out over the flesh of the group of eight – they are all sparkling like the facets of a thousand diamonds in the sudden sunlight. These eight are clearly vampires. Vampires of the Unstet variety.(1) Inhumanly fast and strong; animal-like in their keen senses of hearing, vision and smell; insanely beautiful. And filled with a lust for human blood as much as – or perhaps more than – any other variety of vampire.

Unlike other vampires, the sunlight does nothing to diminish the Unstet's powers or weaken them in any other way. To the contrary, it heightens their beauty with this entrancing sparkle, making them irresistible to their prey. Luckily for the few mortals currently on this island, these eight Unstet are an anomaly for their species and refrain from feeding on humans for moral purposes, although there's no telling what may happen to their self restraint under the taxing conditions into which they've currently placed themselves.

The man standing between the two groups starts talking again. "I'm Jeff Probst, and I am excited to tell you that this edition of Survivor is going to be like no other. Not only is this the first time we've had non-human competitors, it is the first time we've had teams from two different countries. The Hellsing Tribe," he says, nodding at the group of four, "is here from sunny England. While the Cullen Tribe," he adds, nodding to the group of eight, "are here from sunny Forks, Washington, U.S.A. By now you've picked up on the fact that instead of gathering a group of strangers, as per usual, this time the teams are made up of members that already know each other…intimately.

"The Hellsing Tribe comprises individuals from none other than the Hellsing Organization, otherwise known as the Royal Order of Protestant Knights. They're taking a break from ridding the world of the undead and other evil infestations to take a crack at winning the million dollar prize. Their group includes two vampires and two humans. The Cullen Tribe – all vampires - has lived closely as a family for several decades, but they are willing to test those family ties to see which one can outwit, outlast, and outplay the others.

"Hold onto your buffs, everyone, because we've got another first for you," Jeff says and casts a mischievous eye across all twelve contestants. "As you've undoubtedly noticed, the Hellsing tribe is short a few players. I understand your organization was attacked recently and you four are all that remains."

"That is so," says the stern-looking blond man, I mean woman, in a business-like tone.

"Which leaves us with a problem," the show's host continues. "The Cullen Tribe now outnumbers the Hellsing Tribe two to one. That hardly seems fair, does it?"

The three shorter Hellsings shake their heads in eager agreement. The tallest one stands impassively, observing the others with mild curiosity. The Cullens' expressions are more uncertain. Are some of them going to be asked to leave? So soon?

"So – another Survivor first - we're going to divide up the larger tribe on day one and play the game with _three_ tribes of four. Carlisle, Esme, please step over here." A blond haired man and dark haired woman from the Unstet group, dressed identically in navy-blue Bermuda shorts and crisp, white polo shirts step over to Jeff Probst. "As the designated leaders of your family – the mother/father figures - you will each be the head of one of the Cullen sub-tribes, which will now be known as Tribe Esme and Tribe Carlisle."

Esme and Carlisle cast quick, heartbroken glances at each other. They are pleased that none of the Cullens will be forced out of the game, but they are distressed to realize that the two of them will be separated. Without a word, they step obediently to either side of the host and listen for further instruction.

"You will choose your tribes in a good old-fashioned round of schoolyard pick-em. With some guidelines. I understand that your tribe, er, family is actually made up of four couples, or 'mates' as the vampires call it."

"That is correct, Jeff," Carlisle answers.

"Okay, this is how it's going to go – when it's your turn to pick, you must pick someone of the opposite sex. Also, you must pick someone who doesn't already have a mate on your tribe." The other six Cullens fail to bite back an audible gasp as they realize that they, too, will be separated from their beloved mates. A glint of sunlight reflects off the pointed white teeth that suddenly expose themselves in an amused grin under a wide, red brim. Probst continues, "Therefore, once you pick someone, their mate will automatically go to the other tribe. Are you guys ready?" he asks, looking intently at Carlisle and Esme.

"Yes, Jeff," they say in unison, giving each other one last tender glimpse and then turning to face the others.

"Carlisle, you pick first," Jeff says.

The Cullen father figure eyes what he considers to be his children. He is a kind-hearted man, but he is also pragmatic. He wants to make the best choice. The best choice for his tribe. It's more than a matter of picking the strongest or the smartest. When he selects someone for his tribe, he's selecting someone for the other tribe as well, because the mate of his choice will be going there. His first instinct is that he wants Jasper on his tribe. In addition to the other natural gifts of the Unstet, Jasper has a special power – he can influence the emotions of those around him. Carlisle knows that emotion and attitude are key in a game like this. A game where creature comforts are non-existent. A game where team morale is enough to tip the scales of each challenge in or out of your favor. A game where no one is ever sure exactly who to trust.

The trouble is, Carlisle can't simply select Jasper. He has to choose a female and leave Jasper on the table, taking the risk that his wife will pick him up. Selecting Alice would send her mate Jasper directly to the other team, so she's out. Carlisle ponders his remaining two choices – Bella or Rosalie. Although Esme would never say it out loud, Carlisle knows that among her boys, she has a soft spot for Edward, the one who's been with them the longest. Edward and Esme share a love of classical music and other things that Jasper and their other son, Emmett, find a bit too effeminate for their tastes. So Carlisle decides not to pick Edward's mate Bella. No, if Esme wants Edward, Carlisle's going to make her use up a selection for him, leaving Jasper to be snatched up by his tribe.

Carlisle is already so caught up in the game that he doesn't realize how it's so immediately changed him. Carlisle Cullen, the most benevolent of souls, has always put others' needs before his. Outside of this game, he would have simply given Esme what she wanted. He would have chosen Bella so Esme could have Edward for free, without using up a choice. But the family has hit on hard times and needs that million dollars, and as kind as he is, Carlisle is not humble - he firmly believes that he's the family's best shot at winning, and he's going to do all he can to improve his chances.

"Rosalie," Carlisle says, making his selection. Rosalie's movie-star face brightens just before she gives a smug sideways glance at the other girls, who unlike her, _weren't_ chosen first. She didn't see the calculating going on inside Carlisle's head. She doesn't realize that she's only been chosen as a pawn. Edward realizes. He knows. Like Jasper, Edward has a special gift – he can read minds. He reads Carlisle's mind and understands that the game is on.

The voluptuous blond that is Rosalie, with only a scant amount of her milky curves covered by a teeny, weeny, hot pink bikini, gives her mate, Emmett, a long, wet good-bye kiss and then slinks over to stand by Carlisle while her beefy, muscle-shirted mate struts over to Esme.

"Your turn, Esme," Jeff prompts.

As predicted, the Cullen matriarch utters, "Edward."

Edward's mate, Bella, gasps and turns to cling to him. He wraps his strong arms around her, and she desperately buries her head into his shoulder as if certain that the world is going to stop turning now that she's going to be forced more than two feet away from him.

"It's okay, love," he whispers and then the bronze-haired god in long, army-green cargo shorts and a pleasantly snug crimson t-shirt regretfully separates himself from his wife and takes her hand. They glide together to Carlisle, where Edward leaves his wife with a kiss on her forehead before stepping over to Esme. Bella watches him walk away with sad, puppy dog eyes, and her chest heaves under the words 'Forks is for Lovers'(2) on her white, cap-sleeve tee.

Only two Cullens remain standing on their initial plot of sand: a devastatingly dangerous looking young man with longish, dirty blond hair in a scruffy Nirvana concert t-shirt and a pair of intentionally distressed denim jeans sawed off at the knees, and a sprightly, spiky-haired brunette girl in a darling, patterned sundress over a pair of yellow, stretchy capris.

"Only one male left, Rose, so your choice is made for you," explains Jeff Probst. "Jasper, come on over to Tribe Carlisle. Alice, you'll be going to Tribe Esme." After a quick squeeze of his mate's hand, the dirty blond saunters over to stand with his new tribe and Alice skips to hers.

"So there we have it – Tribe Carlisle is Carlisle, Rosalie, Bella and Jasper; Tribe Esme is Esme, Emmett, Edward and Alice. Let's introduce Team Hellsing. Over here we have our two human contestants - Integra Hellsing, head of the organization and Walter Dornez, he is…" Jeff's voice trails off for a moment as he considers how exactly to describe Walter C. Dornez.

"My servant," Integra, the long-haired blond, says crisply, completing his sentence for him.

"Your servant," Jeff repeats compliantly, although he'd probably have chosen a different word. "The final two members of the Hellsing tribe are-"

Integra cuts him off again, saying in her cold, matter-of-fact voice, "Also servants. Who happen to be vampires."

Jeff seems a bit thrown by this succinct, rather unflattering description of the two formidable creatures that stand before him, but continues. "Uh…yes…uh…we have Alucard." The menacing, red-cloaked man nods his towering head with formality at his introduction. "And Seras Victoria, his protégé." The tiny blonde gives an embarrassed giggle and shrugs her shoulders. The modest movement seems to put a further strain upon her heroic buttons. Emmett, from across the sand, seems to be keenly aware of the buttons' precarious situation. In fact, he seems to be quite eager for their failure.

"We have one last piece of business before you head off for camp," Jeff announces, then he hands each group a burlap sack. "In these sacks you will find your tribe buffs in your tribe color. You will also find a map that will guide you to your tribe's camp supplies, which are hidden just inside the cover of the jungle behind you. With your supplies is a map to your camp. We'll meet back here on this beach for our first immunity challenge. And what better time to meet with vampires than in the _dead_ of night?"

By now all of the Survivors have pulled out their bandana-like tubes of cloth and pulled them somewhere onto their person. Most simply wear them as head bands, but Alucard uses his black Hellsing buff as a band around the base of this hat. Rosalie wears her green band as a tube top, and Emmett has his swatch of orange twisted over his bulging bicep, flexing the trademark Survivor logo bigger and smaller for whoever cares to be impressed.

"Okay then, Survivors ready?" Jeff asks. Everyone nods, and he says, "Unroll those maps and get to camp."

The groups take off separately into different sections of jungle. A camera man scrambles behind each team, trying to keep up. The tribes are now far enough away from each other that they cannot see or hear the other teams, nor can Edward read the minds of those outside his own tribe. Armed with superhuman eyesight, it doesn't take them long to locate their supplies. They find piles of lumber, tarps and a few tools for building a shelter. In an effort to appease concerned environmentalist viewers, the vampires will not be allowed to hunt either humans or animals on this island, so they are also supplied with several pints of blood and a huge bag of rice for the Hellsing Tribe. The tribes will, however, be allowed to fish, because who cares about fish?

The Survivors scoop up their supplies and begin the trek to their tribe camp. Navigating through the jungle with hundreds of pounds of lumber and food supplies would be a very grueling task for humans, but with their superior strength and instincts, this is literally a walk in the park to the vampires. Even the two humans of the Hellsing Tribe have an easy time of it, since their vampires easily carry the entire load themselves.

The leisurely stroll allows time for conversation and speculation.

* * *

"Did you see the rack on that she-vamp?" Emmett grunts. Receiving only eye rolls from his foster mother, sister and metro-sexual brother, he takes a different track. "So, what was up with that freaky, tall dude in the red coat?"

"Carlisle knows him," Edward answers gravely.

Carlisle's wife, Esme, whips her head toward Edward and says with great surprise, "He does?"

"Yes, from well before any of us were changed, or even born as humans," Edward answers. Carlisle has been a vampire for two centuries longer than any of the others.

"How did he know him?" Alice asks. Alice has a gift for getting glimpses into the future, but if it's something from the past, she's often clueless.

"I'm not quite certain," Edward answers. "I read it on Carlisle's mind as soon as he saw him, but he wasn't thinking about anything specific. I only heard thoughts such as, _'Oh Lord, help us. Not him.'_"

"His name was Alucard," Esme says, her voice sounding contemplative. After a brief pause, she adds, "I don't remember Carlisle ever mentioning an Alucard."

Emmett comments "Must be someone he'd rather forget…"

* * *

"Carlisle Cullen," Alucard sneers. "Never thought I'd cross _his_ path again. Winning this thing is going to be even easier than I thought."

"Don't get overconfident, Alucard," Integra warns. "One of us needs to win that million dollar prize to begin rebuilding the Hellsing Organization, and ninety percent of the time; this game is lost on hubris. Look what happened to James the gravedigger - he got voted out while in possession of _two_ hidden immunity idols," Integra says, shaking her head incredulously.

"You watch Survivor, sir?" Seras asks, sounding shocked.

"I…uh…no. N-n-not regularly. I – I ordered a few seasons from Netflix for research. Yes, research," Integra scrambles to answer. "Alucard, how do you know that Cullen man," she then asks, abruptly changing the subject.

"Oh, we worked on a little…project together before your father locked me away, didn't we Walter," he answers cryptically. Walter nods in silent confirmation, but says nothing.

"And…" Integra prompts impatiently.

"And the pertinent information for our _current_ project is that Unstets like Carlisle and his family are no competition for Nosferatu like me," Alucard answers arrogantly.

"Like _us_," Seras corrects.

Alucard ignores her comment and explains, "They are strong and they have many talents, but they can't teleport, nor can they change form."

"I think you're forgetting a very important advantage that they have over you, Alucard," Walter says gently. "They can swim."

Seras gasps and her eyes grow wide. She stops in her tracks and stares at Walter disbelievingly. "They can?" she murmurs. Nosferatu vampires have to be very careful around moving water. They can cross it in a boat, but only if they carry dirt from their homeland with them. Even so much as getting soaked in a simple rain will decrease their powers. Submerging themselves is out of the question, so Seras is surprised indeed to learn that their vampirean competitors can swim.

"Oh yes, they are very agile swimmers," Walter answers with a touch of awe.

Alucard is irritated by this reminder. "Yes, but do _they_ have the souls of those they've consumed at their command--"

"Alucard, you are only allowed to use those souls - your familiars - when I've given you clearance," Integra interjects sternly.

"Well, I assume you will give clearance when necessary," he answers.

"It won't be necessary," Integra replies succinctly. "Not in this game."

* * *

"I wonder what Ness is doing right now," Bella sighs for the tenth or twentieth time. Ness is Bella and Edward's daughter, whom they've left in care of Bella's father while they're on this adventure. "How soon do you think the tribes will merge together? I don't know how long I can go without both Nessie _and_ Edward."

"Don't blubber to us," Rosalie snaps back irritably. "We're not the reason you're stuck on this God-forsaken island trying to recoup our stock market losses."

"I'd hardly call this island God-forsaken, Rosalie," Carlisle says serenely. "Look at this lush, green beauty. Listen to the lovely music the birds are singing to us. No, I'd say God spent extra time creating this patch of heaven on earth."

No one seems appeased or distracted by Carlisle's statement.

"Who exactly are you implying is the reason we're here, Rose?" Jasper asks sharply.

"Oh sorry, Jasper, did I make it too difficult for you to figure out?" Rosalie says nastily. "Here, let me make it a little easier for you – Alice!"

"It was not her fault!" Jasper shouts, defending his mate.

"Oh, wasn't it? Are you telling me that she _didn't_ take her eye off the ball because she was Obamatized?" She's referring to Alice's failure to use her future-vision to check on the fate of the stock market in the months following Obama's election as the U.S. President.

"Look, he said '_Yes we can_,' so she thought that he could," Jasper retorts.

"Yep, those campaign promises usually pan out, don't they?" Rosalie responds sarcastically.

"Alright, you two, that's enough," Carlisle says, sounding like a father running out of patience. "We're here now, no matter the reason. Jasper, I'm counting on you to keep our tribe cohesive. We'll need to use every advantage we have, because we've got bigger problems to worry about."

"What do you mean?" Jasper asks.

"The Hellsing Tribe. Did you notice that their vampires didn't glitter in the sunlight?" Carlisle says.

The others are silent. They hadn't noticed, and now their eyebrows pull together in concern.

"They're Nosferatu," Carlisle says ominously.

"Shit," Jasper murmurs, and the girls exchange anxious glances. They've never met Nosferatu before, but Carlisle has told them stories of their great powers.

Carlisle sighs and continues, "Yes, unfortunately, that's still not our biggest problem. The tall one in red, the one called Alucard – I know him. Well, I knew him in the past."

"How?" Rosalie asks, curious to hear an exciting adventure from Carlisle's history that she's never heard before.

"That's not important," Carlisle answers. "What's important is that this Alucard is absolutely ruthless. More ruthless than any vampire I've ever met." He can't hide the concern in his voice.

A stunned silence falls over the group. The Cullens have been up against some vile foes, and it's difficult for them to imagine something more ruthless than what they've already seen. Something that's cohabitating with them on this very island, right now.

Jasper is too preoccupied with these thoughts at the moment to release his calming powers. Instead, he murmurs another barely audible, "Shit."

.

.

.

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_footnotes:_

(1) Fanfiction author Master of the Boot first coined the term 'Unstet' to describe the Cullen's variety of vampire.

(2) Kudos to the creator of this ingenious piece of FaceBook Flare.

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Upon completion of this chapter, I'm thinking that you may have the following two questions:

1) So, where's this reader participation you promised?

_Starting with the 4__th__ Tribal Council, YOU will get to vote for who you want out! I'm very excited about this!!! I'll tally the votes and the most votes wins, or loses depending on how you look at it. The story will then continue on with the remaining characters. At this point I estimate that reader voting will start at about chapter 5. Ah, but the first three votes are all mine._

2) What the hell – why are vampires now publicly 'outed' and starring in reality TV shows?

_I have no idea. If you, however, have any thoughts on the subject, please let me know, and if it jives well enough with this story, I'll put it up as a prologue!_

Any more questions? I've tried to write this story so that it can be easily followed by readers who aren't necessarily familiar with Twilight, Survivor or even Hellsing, but if there's something about any of the characters that is confusing to you, please let me know so I can correct it.

Thanks for reading! Thanks even more for reviewing!

-LiLa


	2. The chapter in which Edward tosses a nut

Chapter Two

The chapter in which Edward tosses a nut

The tribes have three very different arrivals at camp.

The small, sandy beach at camp Hellsing is adorned with two wooden coffins just past the edge of the trees. Without a word to anyone, Alucard unceremoniously dumps his clattering load of boards in the middle of the sand and stalks off to his coffin.

Seras is much more delicate about setting down the tarps and sacks of food that she's been carrying. She stifles a yawn and asks, "What shall I do now, sir?"

"Get some sleep," Integra answers, saying it as an order. "You and Alucard will need your rest for the challenge tonight. Walter and I can set up camp."

"Thank you, sir," Seras says and scampers off to her hollowed block of wood.

The lids clamp shut on the coffins with the vampires inside, and Walter and Integra are left alone, staring at the pile of lumber and canvas. Integra pulls a cigar from a hidden pocket inside her suit jacket, but when she looks expectantly at Walter, waiting for him to giver her a light, all he can do is shrug his shoulders.

"We haven't got fire yet, sir," he says.

Integra sighs and looks toward the cameraman, who only just emerges from the jungle, lugging his heavy equipment. "You there," she demands. "Give me a light."

"Uh," the cameraman says uncomfortably as he pulls his face away from the camera. "Sorry lady, not allowed to interact. I'm just part of the scenery around here."

Integra huffs another gust of air and shoves the cigar back into her pocket. Meanwhile, Walter is examining one of the canvas tarps.

"Walter?" Integra asks. "What are you thinking?" She's hoping that her butler/invincible-soldier-when-necessary has some ideas on what to do with that pile of rubbish, because she certainly doesn't.

"I'm thinking that we need our rest as well, Sir Integra," he says, slinging the tarp over his arm and walking toward the trees. "It will take hours to build a shelter, but only minutes…" he says and flicks the fabric open, tying one end to a tree and then quickly securing the other end to another tree about eight feet away, "…to assemble a hammock!" he announces, rolling his hands toward the newly constructed hammock with a flourish.

Integra smiles appreciatively. She's tired from the trek through the forest, and the hammock is inviting. "Walter, you are worth your weight in blessed silver bullets."

The servant's mouth tightens in a small, satisfied smile as he ties up another hammock. He explains that they should rest now and will have plenty of time to set up the shelter with the aid of Alucard and Seras after the challenge. Then they both climb into their swatch of cozy fabric and are soon sleeping just as deeply as their vampires.

* * *

Team Esme, their arms loaded with supplies, surveys their long, thin strip of sand and its panoramic view of the Atlantic with satisfaction. They aren't exhausted like the Londoners. They're never exhausted. They're never even tired. Unstet vampires don't require rest of any sort. The only thing they are at risk of getting tired of is each other.

"Oh, look how pretty," Alice chirps.

Esme smiles and gestures with her head toward a gap between two trees at the edge of the sand. "This would make a lovely location for our shelter, wouldn't it? We'd have such a wonderful view of the ocean."

"Oh, yes!" Alice squeals excitedly.

"So we should dump this stuff over here, then?" Emmett says, walking over and dropping his load as he says it. Edward and the girls follow suit.

The Cullens don't actually require a shelter for their physical needs. They don't get too cold, don't get too warm and are strong enough to weather any, well, weather. But it's never pleasant to get dripped on by the torrential rains that are not uncommon at this time of year in this part of the world, so on the walk over, they decided that it would be worthwhile to build a shelter.

The boys set to work on the actual construction, while the women stand back and guide their progress with direction on design. For the most part, Edward and Emmett comply with requests - exchanging only a brief eye roll when Esme insists on a superfluous gable at the front - but they put their collective foot down when Alice starts talking about a hot tub.

"This is Survivor, Alice, not the Real Wives of Orange County," Emmett gripes.

"Fine," she says insolently, sticking her tongue out at him and then refocusing her energies on collecting interesting looking shells and palm fronds for interior decoration.

When the shelter is finished and the women are busy setting up house, Edward and Emmett swipe a coconut from one of the nearby trees and head onto the beach to toss it back and forth like a football. They peel off their shirts to let the sun caress their sparkling torsos. Emmett's shoulders are broad, and his well developed pecks are the type that you can imagine flexing in a perfectly timed cancan. Edward is not as buff as his brother, but his abs are finely sculpted, and although the cancan may be a strain to the smooth muscles of his chest, they can most certainly manage a mesmerizing tango.

Edward and Emmett engage in mindless conversation while they play their game of catch. After a while, Emmett zings the coconut toward Edward and asks, "How big do you suppose this island is?"

Edward catches the coconut and pauses as he ponders the question. He surveys the considerable length of coast that is visible to him and multiplies that by the number of steps it took them to get there, divided by the length of time, factoring in the height of the tallest tree they passed along the way. And there was a Pi in there somewhere, possibly squared. Regardless, Edward answers, "Approximately two hundred twenty five square miles, give or take."

Emmett's full lips twist into a devilish grin and he repeats "Two hundred twenty five square miles…no problem." His thoughts begin moving in a thousand different directions, none of which are rated PG, and Edward doesn't follow.

"Em, slow down. What does the size of this island have to do with…with…any of _that_?"

"Two hundred twenty five miles give or take means that I'm sneaking across to camp Carlisle tonight, where I'm gonna _give_ and Rosalie's gonna _take_."

Edward cocks a teasing, yet accusing eyebrow at Emmett as he lobs the coconut over the sand. "Fraternizing with the enemy?" he asks.

"I will fraternize with whatever gets me laid, brother," Emmett replies, palming the coconut.

"It's against the rules last time I checked, Em," Edward warns. "They're not going to just let you waltz into another camp. _Uph-_" he grunts as he catches an extra powerful pass from Emmett.

"Yeah, well who's gonna stop me – the putz camera guy?"

Edward's eyes flick to the cameraman and Emmett's gaze follows. He looks a bit chagrined and quickly adds, "Uh, no offense camera guy."

The scenery gives no response, but Emmett has recollected that they're not alone and keeps all further comments in his head. _'Look, they can tell us to walk slow on the way to and from challenges so he can keep up, but they can't track us twenty-four/seven,'_ Emmett reasons in his head. _'Come on, Edward, don't tell me you don't want to see Bella. We can make it a double date.'_

"Unlike you, I can distinguish between wants and needs, and I choose to exercise some self control," Edward responds out loud to Emmett's thoughts. "I'm going to win this thing clean, playing by the rules,"

_'Have it your way,'_ Emmett thinks somewhat sullenly. Edward always seems to have a way of taking the high road and making Emmett feel like a jerk-off.

In an effort to feel better about himself, Emmett calls Edward a 'pussy' on camera and whips the coconut at his brother's pious genitalia. Edward stops the giant nut a mere inch from its target and smirks. This isn't the first time Emmett has called him a pussy for doing the right thing, and it surely won't be the last.

* * *

The other Cullen tribe takes a decidedly more pragmatic approach to setting up camp. Upon reaching their destination, Dr. Carlisle's first priority is to find a cool place to store their rations.

"In this heat and humidity, blood will spoil at twice the normal rate," he explains. So they devise a plan to dig a deep pit in the sand of their beach to bury the sacks of blood, thereby protecting it from the sun's heat.

"Rose, Bella, why don't you two grab the rations and work together to dig the hole while Jasper and I build the shelter back here in the trees," Carlisle says.

Rosalie narrows her eyes unpleasantly and Bella's shoulders slump. The two girls don't relish the thought of spending time quality time together, but they know that despite Carlisle's easy going manner, this is an order, not a request. He's hoping that working on this project together will help them bond as teammates.

Daddy Cullen's hopes are perhaps set to high. The girls don't get along, and except for a brief period during Bella's pregnancy and the resulting child's infancy, they never have. Much time has been spent on both sides trying to get past various resentments and jealousies, but they eventually came to realize that there was nothing for it. Rosalie simply doesn't like Bella. Period. To put it another way, Edward's dorkified and overly-dramatic wife annoys the shit out of her. Bella, on the other hand, doesn't dislike Rosalie, but after several rebuffed attempts at befriending the bombshell, she finally gave it up as bad job and now mostly just tries to stay out of her way. At the moment, however, it looks like staying out of the way is going to be impossible.

Rosalie grabs up all the blood and sets off to the beach without waiting for Bella, who reluctantly follows. With the girls out of hearing range, Jasper takes the opportunity to ask more about this Alucard fellow.

"How much do we need to worry about the Hellsing vampires?" he asks. "Should we demand that our two tribes be allowed to camp together for protection? I don't like the idea of Alice out there with _him._"

Carlisle is silent for a few contemplative moments before answering. "No. From what I've heard, the Hellsing Organization - Miss Integra Hellsing specifically - controls him to some extent. He is bound within her orders, and she'll certainly not let him engage in any sort of foul play." Jasper looks relieved.

"Don't let that make you complacent, though," Carlisle warns. We can't expect him to play the game fairly. Even if he does, he'll be a formidable foe. He was a very powerful vampire when I knew him, with a great many powers at his disposal, and who knows what he's learned since then. And this Seras Victoria – if she's truly his offspring, if she has his venom running through her, then she's also a force to be reckoned with."

With that to consider, the two men continue working in silence. -- Oh, what the heck -- they strip the shirts off of their magnificent backs and hang them on a tree branch before continuing to lift and reach and flex away.

Meanwhile, the girls have dug a sizeable hole in the sand. Rosalie scoops out a handful and shouts, "Ow! Fuck!" and shoots a dirty look at Bella.

"What?" Bella asks defensively and stops digging, resting her hands along a wall inside the hole. "I didn't do anything."

"Well, _something_ just shocked me," Rosalie says accusingly as she rubs her smarting hand.

"How could I have shocked you?" Bella asks just before she feels something pulling on her hands. Before she realizes what's happening, her hands have been sucked into the sand just past her wrists. She tries to tug them out, but they are stuck. "Hey! Rose! Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything!" Rosalie shouts, pushing herself to standing and backing away from the hole.

Bella watches with fright as Rose backs away and she comes to understand that something else is trapping her. "Ro-o-ose," Bella pleads with wide, terrified eyes.

"Kn-knock it off, Bella!" Rosalie demands, hoping this is a joke but getting scared that it isn't.

Bella bends her dark head over the hole and struggles frantically to pull her hands free. Just as her panic reaches its peak, her hands fly out of the sand and into her eye sockets. "Ouw! Son of a--" she shouts.

Rosalie throws a hand up to her pouty, pink lips to cover a spontaneous smile and asks in a curiously giggly voice, "Are you okay?  
"Ugh," Bella groans as she lowers her hands and gently rubs the area around her eyes with her fingertips. "Yeah. I'm fine. But what _was_ that?"

"I don't know. Sand crabs maybe?" Rosalie answers doubtfully as she absently rubs her hand where it had been nipped a few minutes ago. "Let's just toss these bags of blood in and bury them so we can get the hell out of here."

"Ditto that," Bella answers. It's the first time in a while that they've agreed on anything. Perhaps Carlisle's plan is working after all.

* * *

Soon it is dusk and time to set off for the challenge. Even though the ten vampires in the game could cross the island in the blink of a human eye, they are contractually obligated to move at cameraman speed, so it is full on night by the time they reach their destination. They all arrive at the darkened beach within a few minutes of each other and stand clumped in their tribes. The two Cullen tribes stand separately, but fairly close to each other, while the Hellsing Tribe keeps its distance a good twenty feet away.

Edward can read all the minds gathered on this beach, save one - his wife's. She has an innate ability to block his mind-reading powers, but her expressive eyes have a way of telling him exactly what she's thinking. He needs to understand the new tribe, the Hellsings, but there will be time for that later. For now, he misses his family and wants to reconnect with them, even if it can only be a one-sided reunion. He taps into their brains and finds that the emotions of the other tribe of Cullens seem veiled somehow, as if they are intentionally putting up a barrier between themselves and Tribe Esme.

_Aha_, he thinks as he hones in on Rosalie's mind. Carlisle has given them a pep talk on the way, explained that it's for the good of the family that they view Esme, Edward, Emmett and Alice as competition, not family, just for the duration of this challenge. So they're steeling themselves against their sentiments in order to give the challenge their all.

Edward turns his attention to Carlisle to see how well he's following his own advice. Carlisle's gaze travels further across the beach to the vampire in red, Alucard. Edward is surprised by the violent vision that flashes through his father's mind. _Children, small children dressed in tattered and filthy clothing are approaching Carlisle with their arms outstretched and asking for help_. Edward can tell that this is a real memory. _Carlisle wants to help them, but the child closest to him is abruptly blasted apart. Before he can react, there is another blast and another and the children explode in a bloody mess of filthy flesh and innards. A deep, maniacal laugh resonates over the noise of the screeches and explosions. It is a laugh of pure ecstasy._

Standing on the dark beach, Edward concentrates, trying to see through the smoke and fog of the memory that Carlisle is desperately trying to push out of his mind. Before Carlisle succeeds, Edward makes out _a pair of glowing, red eyes above a wide, sharp- toothed mouth that is emitting that deep cackle of mirth_. The memory disappears, but Edward turns to where Carlisle had been looking and sees the same electric eyes, the same sharp-toothed mouth that is now pulled into a crooked smirk as Alucard surveys the two teams of Cullens.

Edward taps into Alucard's thoughts. They are foreign and murky. He's going to have to familiarize himself with the way this ancient vampire's mind works before he'll be able to get a clear read, but right now Alucard seems to be concerned with the Cullens' eyes. _They are light, serene. Just like Carlisle's. It's disturbing,_ he thinks as he narrows his eyelids suspiciously over two seething, red orbs.

All attention turns to the short guy in khaki and blue. Jeff Probst is lit by the glow from hundreds of tiki torches that surround the group. Like Walter and Integra, the other humans, he wears a waterproof flashlight secured to his forehead by a sporty-looking headband. In addition to the battery operated light beaming out from his forehead, an excited spark flickers in his eye.

"Nice to have you back," he smiles, deepening the long, adorable dimples on either side of his mouth. "I see you all got your messages at camp to designate two tribe mates as swimmers."

He's referring to Rosalie, Jasper, Edward, Alice, Integra and Walter, who are all wearing swimsuits. When it had been time to designate swimmers at camp Hellsing, there was no choice to be made, as only two of their members are capable of immersing themselves in water. By the looks of his bathing suit, Walter probably hasn't immersed himself in anything other than a bathtub since 1947. A one piece, striped unitard stretches over his thin frame, exposing his thick old-man veins that lay like long, blue worms on top of the lean, surprisingly firm musculature of his arms and legs.

Integra's swimsuit is a modern, solid black tankini of the variety worn by housewives who've thrown in the towel on ever looking good in a _real_ swimsuit again. The top provides full coverage of her chest, and the bottoms are complete with a hip covering skirt. The Hellsing pair is a marked contrast to the four Cullens, who look like something out of an Abercrombie catalog.

As modest as Integra's suit is compared to Rosalie's bandaid-sized bikini and Alice's streamlined racer suit, Integra is obviously uncomfortable baring even this amount of flesh. Her chief vampire seems to be rather enjoying his boss' discomfort, and his sneer has been replaced by an impish sort of grin.

"Master," he says, reaching out to touch his fingertips to her granny-style skirt. "_This_ is going to interfere with your hydrodynamics." As he says it, he flicks his wrist and rips the skirt off, leaving her standing on the beach in a pair of thigh-bearing briefs. She's furious with her underling, but more than that, she's mortified. As a result, all of her attention goes to trying to cover her slender thighs with her hands while trying not to look like she's trying to cover her slender thighs with her hands. She can't wait to get in the water.

"Each set of swimmers," Jeff continues, "will swim out to their respective floating platform and take turns diving ten feet down to unhook and retrieve six large puzzle pieces. When you have all six pieces on the platform, you'll work together to pull the platform to shore where your two waiting tribe mates will then assemble the puzzle. The last tribe to finish will go to Tribal Council tonight, where they'll vote out one of their own. Swimmers, take position. You'll start on my go."

The six swimmers line up with their toes at the shoreline and Jeff asks, "Survivors ready?" All six nod stiffly with their steely eyes trained on the platforms. "Go!"

Barely a splash is made as the six graceful survivors dive into the water. Naturally, the Cullen vampires reach the platforms first, but the remarkably fit Hellsing humans aren't too far behind. Nevertheless, the Cullen teams each have two puzzle pieces on the platform before Walter emerges with Hellsing's first. The septuagenarian touches the platform, and Integra disappears, reappearing swiftly with the second piece.

"Tribes Carlisle and Esme are neck and neck at four pieces each," Jeff announces from the beach. "Hellsing's getting outstripped two to one."

Not only do the vampires have the advantage in speed and strength, they also have the ability to see clearly in the dark. The Cullens feel secure in their lead and are celebrating with jubilant high fives. Jasper and Alice even cross tribal lines to exchange a kiss in a rare display of public affection. During these antics, Walter emerges, gasping this time, with his team's third piece.

"The vampires don't need to breathe – _big_ advantage in this challenge," Jeff comments.

Seras is getting nervous as she waits helplessly on the beach. "Isn't there _anything_ you can do, Master?" she asks Alucard with a slight quaver in her little girl voice.

Alucard shrugs and states simply, "Water challenge."

"Ooooh," Seras whines as she begins nervously bouncing up and down, much to Alucard's irritation and Emmett's delight as he peeks over from across the sand.

Integra tugs her fourth piece up, but one look at Walter, who is clutching onto the wooden platform and sounding like a laryngitic walrus as he sucks in air, tells her that he needs a bit more rest.

"Integra's diving down _again_, giving her tribe mate more time to recover," Probst drones. "Both Cullen tribes are now easily hauling their platforms full of puzzle pieces to shore. Whoa! Looks like they're moving a little too swiftly and some of the pieces have fallen back _into_ the water. They're losing time as they dive back down to retrieve the fallen pieces." The Cullens do, in fact, lose a bit of ground as they pull up the pieces and then tow the lot in at a gingerly pace. Still, it's fairly clear who's going to Tribal Council tonight.

Integra barely manages to slide Hellsing's fifth piece onto the platform and then climbs up and collapses next to it with her straight, blonde hair clinging to her face, neck and shoulders like limp seaweed. To Seras' dismay, her boss begins making the same hideous, strangled noises as Walter.

"Maaasteeer…" Seras fidgets, now starting to bite her fingernails until she rips one clear off.

Alucard snickers as he watches his human masters kill themselves to complete the task. This thing will be lost before they've even made it back to shore. _If _they make it back to shore. He snickers again.

"The puzzle teams of Esme/Emmett and Carlisle/Bella kick it into gear while it looks like Tribe Hellsing is falling apart," Jeff notes.

Even though they are secure in a double family win, the Cullens don't lighten up one bit in their efforts to come in first – there are, after all, bragging rights involved. Team Esme figures they have it in the bag: they've got the mind reader and the future seer on their side. Edward tries to track the inner workings of Carlisle's mind so he can pass his insights on to Esme and Emmett. What Edward doesn't count on is his wife stepping back from the actual puzzle building to instead concentrate on invoking her special power – with effort, she's able to transfer her mind-blocking power to others. Right now she's blowing an invisible brain bubble around Carlisle so that Edward can't read his thoughts.

"It's up to you, Alice," Edward murmurs to his teammate, who sits next to him in the sand. "I can't get a read – Bella's blocking."

Alice pulls her mouth tight and frowns in frustrated concentration. "It's not working. All I get is the finished puzzle, but no idea how to get there."

Edward pushes out a heavy sigh. "Well at least we've got Esme and Emmett working together while Carlisle works alone." But when he looks at his teammates, he sees that two minds do not appear to be better than one in this case.

"Esme and Emmett seem to be having trouble agreeing on an approach to this puzzle," Jeff explains. They're spending more time arguing than solving. Tribe Carlisle's taking a different approach – only one chief in that tribe. Carlisle's working calmly, methodically, making progress."

Edward's eyes automatically flick over to Jasper. Through the long, dirty-blond locks that partially hide Jasper's face, Edward detects a devious smile on his sharp, red lips. Through the hair that falls over his brilliant eyes, Jasper is watching his mother and brother squabble. Edward's dead heart sinks as he realizes that Jasper is messing with their emotions. Jasper glances over at Edward and winks. His shit-eating grin widens and Edward and Alice are furious. They begin shouting frantic, entirely unhelpful instructions to their already irritated teammates. Apparently Jasper has enough agitation juice for them, too.

"Hellsing falling further behind," Jeff says, focusing his attention back to the water where Integra lies incapacitated on the Hellsing platform while Walter attempts to dive for the final piece again and again. But he can't seem to hold his breath long enough to make it all the way down. The Hellsing leader is too spent to offer any vocal encouragement, but Seras is screaming like a madwoman from the shore.

"C'mon Walter! You can do it!"

Walter's wet mass of pony-tailed black and grey hair pops up again as he takes yet another sustaining gulp of air.

"Guh!" Seras groans, suddenly turning more angry than encouraging. If she were a cartoon character, she'd have Xs for eyes and a roiling black pouf of steam above her head. Alucard chuckles, igniting even more fury in his fledgling. She beams dangerous red eyes onto Walter and bellows, "LOOK, OLD MAN! YOU GET YOUR BLOODY ARSE DOWN THERE AND GET THAT PIECE, OR I'M GONNA—"

Walter doesn't get to hear what she's gonna do, because he's ducked back under. Nevertheless, the half threat does the trick, and with a Herculean effort, Walter reappears and heaves the final piece onto the board.

At the same moment, Carlisle completes the puzzle and Jeff declares, "Tribe Carlisle is the first winner of this challenge!"

With their victory in place, Jasper and Bella release their powers, allowing Esme's tribe to work at full capacity. "Tribe Esme suddenly making swift progress on this puzzle," Jeff says in his calm, matter of fact manner.

There is nothing calm about Seras Victoria. "Baaaaagghhh!" she wails. She has snapped under the stress. One of her arms suddenly elongates into a dark, shadowy tentacle and bursts across the water to the Hellsing platform. A huge hand forms at the end of the shadow arm and snatches up the platform, lifting Integra and Walter, who is dangling precariously from the edge, with it.

"Uh…" Jeff stammers, not sure exactly how to comment on this new development.

Seras whisks the whole lot to the beach in half a second. All eight Cullens have paused to watch the spectacle, and even Alucard's black eyebrows are raised high in surprise. Seras is oblivious to it all. She only knows puzzle pieces. Her arm shrinks back to normal size, and she begins working furiously on the puzzle.

"Oh, shit," Emmett exclaims, and he and Esme get back to work. Carlisle begins mentally feeding Edward instructions so he can translate to his team. But it's not enough – Seras is done.

Jeff Probst has gotten his head back in the game, and he throws his arms up in the air and declares, "Hellsing's good!"

All eight Cullens groan in unison. Integra pushes herself up from the shattered platform and murmurs weakly in disbelief, "What? What?"

Seras calms down and her eyes come back into focus. Her chest heaves from the incredible burst of energy that she just exerted. "We won?" she asks, just as nonplussed as Integra.

A soaking wet Integra finds a shot of adrenaline and catapults up to leap onto Seras, saturating her in an instant. When Integra pulls back to smile on her new favorite vampire, certain details on Seras' massive front are clearly visible to Unstet eyes through her thin, wet blouse. The women whoop victoriously, losing their balance and tumbling into the sand.

Emmett forgets his tribe's loss for a moment, and his eyes bulge as he watches the two wet women giggle and roll together in the sand, losing themselves in the moment. If you look closely enough, you can see that something is bulging in his pants as well. He looks over toward his bride, who upon feeling the heat of his gaze, turns to him. He mouths a silent 'tonight' just before Jeff calls everyone to order.

"Tribe Carlisle and Hellsing, you're free to continue the celebrations back at camp. Tribe Esme, you're staying with me. We're having Tribal Council right here, right _now_."

*******************************************************************************************************************

Ooooh, who's it gonna be? You don't get an official vote yet, but you never know, perhaps I can be influenced…

Looks like we have a good mix of Hellsing, Twilight and Survivor fans reading, so I'm excited! Again, please let me know if I'm being unclear about any of the characters you may not be familiar with, and also if I've messed up anything with any of the characters that you do know.

I've had a question about the timeframe in which this story takes place. This story is definitely Alternative Universe in that it may not exist in a time & space that strictly adheres to canon. Think of it as the characters being plucked out of their respective anime/books and plopped into an all new adventure on Vampire Island.

Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! And to my buds and my seestah who stopped by at my request – you guys are the best! Thanks Angel, for the Richard Hatch reminder (oh, it's coming); Gracias Bzy, for your permissions (they're coming, too!); Merci Weenie, for the tip on the Probst commentary; and Danka Booty, for the cancan and the sneak preview.


	3. The Chapter in which Rosalie gets pissed

Chapter 3

The chapter in which Rosalie gets pissed

Five thick tree stumps have been hauled inside the circle of tiki torches on the beach. Jeff Probst sits on one of them facing the members of Tribe Esme, who sit clumped together on the other four stumps. Their chiseled, ivory faces look almost human as they reflect the warm glow of the torches.

Jeff leans forward expectantly with his palms pressed on the top of his knees and asks, "What happened out there today? You looked like you had an easy win and then it all slipped away right at the end."

"Yeah, it sucked, Jeff," Emmett says. "But who knew that chick was going to grow that freaky arm thing and steal it away from us?"

"So, I guess the lesson learned today was that you can't predict what's going to happen in this game," Jeff comments.

Emmett, Edward, Alice and Esme nod their heads sadly, and Esme's bottom lip begins to tremble.

"Esme, you look upset," Jeff comments and stares her down for an answer.

"Yes, of course, I'm upset," she answers meekly in a shaky voice. I feel like this is my fault because I kept arguing with Emmett on the puzzle and-"

"It took two of us to argue," Emmett cuts in. "And Edward told you – it was Jasper doing it to us."

"Thank you Emmett," Esme says sweetly, patting his hand. "But I'm the leader of this tribe, and I'm the mother here and now…now," her voice begins to falter before she sobs, "now I'm going to have to vote out one of my own children, and I'm going to have to do it again and again and again until this wretched game is over!" She completely breaks down and sobs into her hands.

Edward reaches out to stroke his mother on the back while he, Emmett and Alice exchange solemn glances. He searches their minds to find out that they are all in agreement - Esme, the soft-hearted, domestic goddess, is not cut out for this game. The most humane thing to do is to vote her out tonight before she must endure any more torture.

When Jeff reads the votes about fifteen minutes later, three cards say _Esme_ and one says _Emmett_. When Esme looks at her son's name - written in her own handwriting - she dissolves into near hysterics and needs Edward to hold her up while Jeff snuffs out her torch and officially tells her that she's been voted off the island. She pulls it together before walking toward the boat that will take her away, and turns to her children, all three of whom are watching her with miserable, repentant faces, and says, "Make good choices, and drink plenty of blood each day. You don't want to get dehydrated."

* * *

Tribe Carlisle's elation at placing number one in the challenge is subdued by the knowledge that someone from their family is being voted out. They can't even bring themselves to speculate about who it might be as they drown their sorrows in a bag of blood while they sit around a small, beach fire that Carlisle constructed by rubbing two sticks together at lightning speed. They aren't only concerned about tonight's vote. They're also trying to digest the healthy dose of reality they'd been fed in witnessing the capabilities of the competition first hand.

"It's as I feared," Carlisle sighed. "Her powers may very well rival those of her master."

"Well, _we_ still managed to beat them; don't forget that," Rosalie interjects.

"The others would have, too, if we hadn't…if we hadn't…oooh," Bella wails and throws her head down onto her crossed arms.

Carlisle reaches out a hand and strokes Bella's back soothingly. "We have to play this game to the best of our abilities, Bella. We didn't do anything wrong. Now, Rosalie's absolutely correct – our team did manage to win the challenge, and it's only going to take one of us to win that million dollars, so by keeping our tribe strong and playing to the best of our abilities, _all_ the Cullens will prevail."

Jasper has been staring morosely into the fire and until now has remained silent. "What if one of us doesn't win?" he says darkly as he pokes the red embers with a long stick, shooting a flurry of flashing sparks into the air. He lets the others absorb what he's said and then looks straight at Carlisle with a somewhat defiant expression in his golden eyes. "It's a possibility," he says firmly. "I know we need to think positively, but today we saw that it's a distinct possibility that we will leave this thing empty handed. We've never made a plan B, Carlisle. What if we lose?"

"Ah yes, plan B," Carlisle says nonchalantly, but Jasper feels a rush of nervous energy pour off of him. When he continues speaking, it is with obvious trepidation. "I…I have actually given that some thought. Well, you know that I get a decent paycheck from the hospital…and although it's not enough to cover the expenses of eight adult vampires, it would seem…it would seem that the fact that are eight of us, that perhaps…perhaps it's in the realm of possibility that it's time for more than one paycheck to start coming in…" He leaves his statement hanging in the hopes that one of the others will pick it up.

Bella lifts her head from her arms and looks curiously at Carlisle. After studying him for a few confused moments, she says, "You would get a second job?"

Carlisle grits his teeth together, trying to keep his exasperation in check. For the last God knows how many decades he has been the sole supporter of this large and extravagant family while they pretend to be high school students and homemakers. Even when they were rolling in money because of their fortuitous investments, the situation had chaffed him. With the impeccable example he set – healing the sick every day of his life – he'd expected that at least some of fledglings would yearn to also become productive members of society.

To his great disappointment, this was not so. They seemed perfectly happy basking in their leisurely and self-indulgent lifestyle and didn't appear to have any intention of changing that. Ever. But now the situation was different – there was a real and imminent need for them to get out there and get an effing job. Carlisle had gone along with these crazy Survivor shenanigans in one last effort to preserve the existence to which they were all accustomed, but if this didn't work out, surely they understood that they needed to work. Surely they didn't need him to spell it all out for them.

But looking into the dim-witted eyes of his newest parasite, Carlisle saw that he was going to have to do just that. "I was thinking, that perhaps, one or five of you could, perhaps, seek employment," he said gently. "You'll find that it's remarkably fulfil--"

"Is that the big dipper?" Rosalie asks abruptly, pointing up into the sky.

"Yes, I believe it is," Bella chimes in eagerly, withdrawing all of her attention from Carlisle.

"You know, it's also known as Ursa Major, the Big Bear," Jasper adds helpfully.

"Really?" Rosalie coos as if that's the most interesting thing in the world.

The back of Carlisle's throat rumbles in a low, frustrated growl, but no one seems to hear him.

* * *

With the others spent from their efforts in the challenge and snoozing away - either snug in a coffin or curled in a hammock - Alucard is left with time to think. He lowers all seven feet to the sand and sits with bent knees. He digs the heels of his black boots into the sand while he rests his forearms on his knees and absently swirls his red hat in his hands. He's set the long, black tangles of his hair free to spill out over his shoulders and around his long, angular features. Through the thick tangle that covers one electric, red eye, he peers at the sea that he'll never be able to enter.

He thinks about Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen. It has been a long time since the two have last seen each other. A lot has happened since then. It's quite obvious how much has changed when one looks at Carlisle, surrounded by his coven, his family, none of whom had even been so much as a spec of lust in their mortal fathers' eye at the time Carlisle and Alucard first met each other.

The passage of time isn't quite so apparent when one examines Alucard. Different butler, different Hellsing, but the same prison. Meanwhile, Carlisle has been free to acquire his own posse and build this thing he calls a life.

_Ah, but Seras is new_. Alucard allows himself a small grunt of satisfaction at this thought. But the flicker of satisfaction doesn't last long. What he and Seras have isn't anything close to what Carlisle has with his fledglings. Not even in the same universe.

True, Seras does seem to have some kind of strange childlike attachment to Alucard, but he's hardly a fatherly figure to her. No, he looks on Seras Victoria more as a possession, his lackey. And she isn't even really his. Like him, she belongs to Hellsing. What Carlisle has assembled is clearly more like a real family. A real human family.

"What an idiot," Alucard mutters bitterly to himself. He can't understand why anyone would want a human family. Within ten years of nuptials, most mortal spouses begin looking upon that _'till death do us part'_ clause with something like longing. Carlisle and his wife have no such escape – they're both already dead and still stuck with each other. Furthermore, the sole goal for mortal parents in raising their children is to teach them what they need to know, so they can one day…leave. From what Alucard understands, Carlisle's 'kids' don't appear to be going anywhere.

Still, there is something that intrigues Alucard about Carlisle's interactions with his fledglings. Alucard can see, can feel their complete devotion to their adopted father. They respect him. They adore him. And he doesn't ask for it, doesn't demand it. They give it freely. To command that type of respect from others without having to beat it out of them is a foreign, yet appealing concept to Alucard. He feels a twinge of yearning for that kind of passive command. The sensation pisses him off.

Well, at least he has Seras, and although her regard for him is based mainly on fear and idiocy, she'll do. She certainly proved her worth at the challenge today. "Besides, all the Cullen mammaries squished together couldn't begin to compete with hers," Alucard chuckles darkly. Then he stands up. He doesn't want to think about Carlisle and his damned family anymore.

* * *

Edward, Emmett and Alice arrive back at camp after a dejected walk from Tribal. They sling their backpacks off their shoulders and before Emmett's even hits the floor of the shelter, he says, "Well, I'm outta here. See you two losers in the morning."

"Don't get caught, Em," Edward warns. "It'll affect the whole tribe."

"Relax, bro. I got it under control."

Edward flicks his eyes to Alice to see if she has any flashes of Emmett getting caught quite literally with his pants down, but Emmett's bare bum is absent from Alice's mind. _Thank God_, Edward and Alice think at the same time.

Alice is fidgety after Emmett takes off. "So, I guess everyone will know what we did after Emmett tells Rose."

"Yeah," Edward says.

_What's Carlisle going to think of us? Will he be mad? _Alice asks in her mind as she sinks down to sit on the front porch swing.

"Not mad," Edward answers, sitting down next to her. "I mean, he won't be happy about it, but he will understand that it's just part of the game. It really was the kindest thing to do. Voting one of us out would've been torture to her."

Alice nods in somber agreement and pulls her legs up to the swing and rests her chin on her knees. After a few silent moments, she turns her head toward Edward and her next thoughts are a mere whisper. _Do you think you could do it Edward? Do you think you could vote off Bella if it came down to it?_

Edward fixes his gaze on a big rock just in front of the porch. He knows that the name of the game is deceit. Hold your cards close to your vest. But he also knows that it's important to align with someone you can trust. There's no one in the world that Edward trusts more than Alice. He'll tell her the truth.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the rock, he murmurs, "I won't write down her name."

Alice exhaled as if she'd been holding in the breath she didn't need while waiting for his answer. Her next words come pouring out of her mouth in a rush. "Iwon'tvoteforJaspereither! AndIknowhe'dnevervoteforme andyouknowBellawould nevervoteyouout and,Edward,I'llnevervoteforyoueither!"

Edward flashes his pearly whites at Alice and says, "Looks like we've got our final four."

Alice's delicate, pretty face lights up as she catches Edward's meaning. She giggles and sticks out her hand. "Shall we shake on it?"

* * *

Carlisle is now alone on his beach. After exhausting their constellation diversion, Jasper, Bella and Rosalie have taken off into the trees for a game of hide and seek. Bella is now 'it' and is searching for Rosalie. Carlisle knows she'll never find her, because he'd seen Rosalie surreptitiously sneaking beyond camp perimeters. She's no doubt taking off for a rendezvous with her amorous husband.

At the thought of a spousal reunion, Carlisle's heart aches. He knows Esme was the one voted out. He felt her leave. Carlisle is a three hundred year old vampire, and therefore, is just coming into his more mystical powers. These powers aren't anything as concrete as telling the future or reading minds; they're more subtle. The only way to explain it is that he occasionally senses things, such as the fact that three of his children just voted out his wife.

He leans back on his elbows and rests his bare feet in the sand and looks up at the giant, yellow moon. He knows that wherever Esme is right now, she's looking up at the same moon. He smiles. Then something entirely unexpected happens to Carlisle. He begins to feel the soft grains of sand pulsate against the soles of his feet. They are exfoliating and massaging just like Esme does for him at home. _Wow_, he thinks, _those mystical powers have come a long way. _

* * *

Before retiring to her hammock, Integra had specifically ordered Alucard not to set foot off the beach. He's frustrated. He's trying to get away from his own thoughts and simply wants to go for a long stroll in the forest. He walks to the very edge of the beach and lifts a foot, letting it hover over the forbidden forest floor.

"As you wish, Sir Integra, I will not set a _foot_ off this beach," he murmurs aloud with a sneer.

The outline of Alucard grows fuzzy and his bright, ruby colors mute to a grey that fades until it's nothing more than a translucent vapor of mist. The mass of fog spreads out flat and begins to move into the trees and away from the beach.

* * *

"Ro-o-osie," Emmett call softly through the trees. He knows he's getting close. He's caught a flicker of her scent here and there, but her precise location eludes him.

Rosalie is higher in the trees, teasing her mate. She's letting him catch her scent and then retreating back and higher into the trees only to let him catch another whiff from a totally different direction. She knows that every elusive whiff whets his appetite for her even more, and a hungry Emmett is an exceptionally virile Emmett.

She decides that he's had enough of the cat and mouse and drops to the ground about ten feet directly behind him. The noise she makes is barely louder than that of a leaf drifting down to the forest floor, but Emmett is now keenly aware of her presence and turns toward her.

Before he can lunge at his wife and get down to business, she commands, "Stop." He holds himself steady and tilts his head, squinting his eyes questioningly. "Take your shirt off," Rosalie says sternly, but with a coy smile playing at the corners of her glossy, pink lips.

Emmett's sensuous mouth spreads into an evil grin and he says, "You want a striptease?"

"That's right, big boy," Rosalie drawls in a rich, smooth voice that drips over Emmett like hot, scented oil.

Emmett touches the bottom of his muscle tee and pulls it seductively over his ripped abs while his wife lustily watches him. They've played this game before, and even though it will delay the actual act, Emmett knows that the increased desire with each article removed will make the wait well worth it. He lifts the shirt up over his head and gives his wife a sultry look. A cool mist creeps into the space between them, flowing around the trunks of the trees on this otherwise clear night.

_Cool_, Emmett thinks, deciding that the surreal quality of the of the mist will up the erotica quotient. His brain is already feeling different; he's suddenly a little light headed, probably because of his impending ecstasy. He shakes off the fuzzy-headedness. It's his turn.

"Take off your pants," he says huskily through the haze.

Rosalie slips down the flannel pajama bottoms that she'd been wearing over her bikini, leaving only a thin patch of pink to cover Emmett's most prized possession. Something flutters in Emmett's brain and he does a double take as he reflects that Rosalie really should have gotten a bikini wax before coming to Vampire Island. He gives his head a shake – that doesn't make any sense. Rosalie's personal grooming has never been anything but impeccable. Vampire bodies don't change. Things don't _grow_.

Rosalie doesn't understand why her husband is looking at her funny. She also doesn't understand why the fog stays hovering between them instead of moving on, or why her head feels strange, as if teeny tiny pinprick probes are feeling around in there. She lets her gaze trail down to Emmett's exposed chest and abs, counting on the sight of her husband's super hot physique to snap her out of it.

She draws her tongue tantalizingly over her top lip as she examines the V of his hip muscle that peeks out over the band of his low-riding basketball shorts. The fog between them seems to quiver and the view suddenly becomes less appealing. She notices a pudge of flesh bulging out over either side of Emmett's shorts; she can't even find any definition that hip muscle anymore, or any muscle for that matter. Emmett looks downright doughy. This isn't right.

She lifts her eyes, intending to look him in the eye and question him, but she doesn't make it that far because of the shocking sight that hits her on the way up. Emmett's sculpted pecks are still as bulky as ever, but they look softer and they're…drooping. Rosalie shudders.

"Come on, babe," Emmett says, "It's your turn."

Rosalie knows that what she's seeing can't be real, but until she gets her brain straightened out, she doesn't have an appetite to look at any more of Emmett's saggy flesh. She knows that she can't explain it to him right now - he'll think she's a lunatic. No, she just needs to buy herself more time and then she'll come back to her senses. "Uh, tell you what. I'll give you a freebie – take another turn."

"Really?" Emmett says. Normally, he would have gone straight for the snatch, but right now he'd rather get his attention off of that particular area of her anatomy. "Take off your buff," he says.

Rosalie winks and smiles flirtatiously at him, trying to get herself back in the mood. She seductively rolls the buff up, over her revealing bikini top and lifts it over her head. Emmett's eager eyes go right for her alabaster cleavage, but he's surprised by the thick, blonde, wiry tuft that peeks out from between his wife's porcelain breasts.

He feels bile rush into the back of his throat and throws his hand to his mouth to contain the dry heave that he can't seem to stop in time. Rosalie jerks her head back and gasps, utterly insulted. She looks down at herself and sees nothing to cause that reaction, just smooth, beautiful, taught flesh, which is more than she can say for man-boobs over there.

Emmett can see by the fiery look that his wife levels at him that there's no way he can explain his little problem to her. Nope, he's going to have to tough it out, close his eyes and try to block the repulsive image of his Rosalie gone ape-girl. But as much as his mind wants to cooperate, his little friend in his pants wants no part of it. It's so far gone that it's practically retreated all the way back to camp without him. The temperamental and vain Rosalie would never recover from failing to arouse the ever-ready Emmett. He's got to get out of this whole situation. Fast.

"You know babe, Edward kind of made a lot of sense back at camp. We're putting both our tribes at risk meeting like this. Maybe we should just wait till the merge."

"Yes, Edward is usually right," Rosalie responds. If Emmett wasn't so relieved, he would've been completely confused by Rosalie's eagerness to agree with anything Edward said. A suspicious shadow appears over her top lip that seems to indicate that she's begun sprouting a mustache.

"Okay, then," Emmett says, trying not to look directly at her without being obvious about it. "See ya at the challenge tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," Rosalie says a little too quickly, already backing away into the forest. "Good night."

"Good night," Emmett calls and sprints away.

The moment those two are gone, the mist moves on at a happy clip. Yup, that fog is having itself a good old time.

* * *

"You are NOT going to actually combust into a million little pieces, Emmett!" Alice retorts angrily as Tribe Esme makes its way to the challenge sans Esme. When he'd arrived back at camp last night, he'd been too freaked out to even try to block his memory of the Bride of Sasquatch from Edward, who immediately busted out laughing and then described everything in full detail to Alice as soon as he could speak steadily again.

They all agreed that it must have been some trick of the lighting in the forest and the fog, but it still disturbed Emmett. As the night wore on, however, the familiar vision of his sweet, sweet, hairless Rosalie returned to him, and by the time day broke, his hormones were raging worse than ever. He's driving Alice and Edward crazy.

"You don't understand. I have _always_ had Rosalie around ever since I became a vampire. We've done it every day since I overcame my frenetic bloodlust of a newborn," Emmett complains.

"Not when we've been on an overnight guys hunting trip," Edward points out.

"Yeah, but then we had mountain goats and other animals around," Emmett responds.

Alice gasps and shoots a disgusted look at Emmett.

"Not like that!" he shouts defensively. "I meant hunting – the chase, the kill - _that_ distracted me. But here, all we have to do is pop open one of those bags of blood and we're all set. I've got no outlet."

They arrive at the large clearing where today's challenge will take place. Tribe Hellsing is already waiting and Tribe Carlisle steps into the space a few seconds later. It's a bright but overcast day, so there's no sparkling going on. Also, the Hellsing vampires will be able to operate at nearly full power without the sunlight beating directly on them. Emmett and Rosalie cautiously eyeball each other and both audibly sigh in relief when they see that the other has fully recovered their customary hotness.

"Welcome back, Survivors," Jeff begins. "As you can see, Esme was voted out last night, leaving her tribe with only three members. So Carlisle and Hellsing, you'll be sitting someone out today. You're going to be playing a game of three-man Chicken Ball. We have three soccer-type goals set up at three points on the outside of the playing area. Each team needs to select one goal keeper to guard their goal. The other two will pair up with one member sitting on the other's shoulders. You'll work as one unit to get the ball across the field and into one of your opponents' goals.

"Wanna know what you're playing for?" Jeff asks and they all nod.

"In this first round, all three teams will be playing at once with two balls. First team to score wins first immunity and this," he says, holding up a small, grayish, rock-looking thing. "Flint, which means fire. The remaining two teams will then square off with one ball and the first one to score wins second immunity. I'll give you a few minutes to strategize, and then we'll get started."

The teams huddle together and it's fairly quickly decided that Bella and Walter will be sitting this game out. Alucard, Alice and Rosalie each station themselves at a goal, leaving Jasper to climb onto Carlisle's shoulders, Emmett to sit on Edward's, and Seras on top of Integra.

Jeff stands in the middle of the field holding two volleyballs with the two-man teams standing around him. "Survivors ready?" he asks. "Go!" and he throws the two balls straight up in the air.

Jasper is quick to swipe one of the balls with his long, agile fingers and Carlisle takes off with him immediately to the Hellsing goal. Jasper whips the ball toward the net, but Alucard easily blocks it, lazily sticking his long arm out as if only half aware that he's even playing a game.

"And Carlisle catches the rebound, wasting not time zipping it right back toward the net," Probst announces.

But Alucard nonchalantly blocks the ball with his big toe.

Meanwhile, Seras and Emmett scuffle with the ball. Both of them have a grip on it, and neither one of them is relenting. Integra and Edward are underneath, struggling to keep their balance. It's a tougher struggle for the human and she looks up at the battle above with concern. She knows that she can't hold out for much longer. Integra is deciding on the best way to advise Seras, when a small button drops onto her face. In the struggle, Seras' top button has popped off. The Cullen boy falters for a quick second, distracted by this new development. Integra seizes the opportunity.

"Seras," she says in her most commanding voice. "I think it's time to make use of your _largest_ assets."

"Sir?" Seras says uncertainly as she again tries to yank the ball loose from Emmett's grip.

"Miss Victoria, I order you to motorboat him."

"But sir…I…"

"That's an order, servant," Integra demands.

"Oooh," Seras whimpers. Then she bites her lip, clamps her eyes shut and releases the ball to clutch the back of Emmett's head and pull his face into the depths of her sumptuous cleavage. He sinks in past his ears and all that can be seen of Emmett's head are the tufts of his fuzzy black hair as they poke out between Seras' fingers.

"Interesting strategy by Hellsing," Probst comments.

Emmett thrashes his head back and forth in Seras' bosom, fighting to be free. His panicked struggling gradually slows to more of a frantic suckling, and just when Seras begins to think that maybe this isn't so bad, after all, Integra shouts another order.

"Release him; I've got his ball!"

Seras yanks Emmett out by his hair and Integra takes off immediately toward to goal that Rosalie is protecting. Emmett wobbles precariously on Edward's shoulders. He is stunned. There's no other word for it. To be unexpectedly thrust into the Garden of Eden of all fantasies after what feels to him like an eternity of abstinence, his brain cannot compute, and he is stunned. He stares blankly forward into nothingness with his mouth gone slack.

Rosalie is on fire as the double-decker Hellsing women arrive at her goal. Integra grabs the ball and searches for an opening, but Rosalie hisses and snarls, defending the goal with cat-like reflexes that are sure to block any attempt Integra considers making.

"Edward having trouble making progress toward the goal," Jeff explains. He's too busy adjusting his stance to balance out an increasingly unstable Emmett." Emmett teeters back and forth on Edward's shoulders, still shell shocked, and the instability of his bulk becomes too much. Emmett topples off of his brother with a thunderous boom as he slams to the ground flat on his back.

"And Emmett's down!" Jeff exclaims.

Everyone pauses to look, but Rosalie hesitates for an extra moment as she hisses through gritted teeth, "I'm gonna _kill_ you, Emmett."

Integra uses the hesitation to sneak the ball into the goal.

"Hellsing scores!" Jeff shouts enthusiastically.

Rosalie clenches her fists and lets loose a furious screech, causing Integra to stumble backwards a few steps before lowering Seras to the ground. The Hellsing girls run over to Walter to celebrate. Alucard saunters past Jeff, snatches the flint and drawls a compliment to his team as he approaches, "_Tit_illating performance, ladies."

Jeff continues, "Okay, we're going Cullen versus Cullen in the final round. Emmett, you okay?" he asks with genuine concern, although he seems to be holding back a laugh.

The fall seems to have knocked Emmett back to life and he nods to Jeff while apprehensively glancing at Rosalie through the corner of his eye.

Jasper stays on Carlisle's shoulders, but Edward and Emmett switch places with Edward now on top. Alice and Rosalie stay at the goals. Jeff tosses up the ball and scrappy Jasper whisks it away from Edward's hands.

"Jasper and Carlisle making their way to Alice. Edward sneeks up behind and grabs him around the waist. Looks like he's trying to pull Jasper off balance. Oh! And Japser throws a sharp elbow into Edward's jaw, knocking him back. Carlisle's again not wasting any time getting to that goal."

Alice perks up as the action finally comes her way. She narrows her long, dark lashes over her shining eyes at her mate Jasper, daring him to do it. He gives her a playful wink and zings the ball into the upper right corner. The petite vampiress jumps up and bats the ball away, toward Edward and Emmett.

"And low man Emmett grabs the ball, but Carlisle and Jasper are going to fight him for it," Jeff says.

Both vampiric totem poles race toward Rosalie with Edward and Emmett slightly ahead. Emmett surreptitiously sticks his foot off to the side. Carlisle swerves to avoid it at the last split second, but it's too late. This all happens in a blur to the human eye. But Emmett's move slows Carlisle enough for Jeff to see what's going on.

"Carlisle is stumbling. He's trying to recover, but Jasper's downward momentum is too much. Whoa! Jasper and Carlisle go down, giving Edward and Emmett a clear shot."

They race to Rosalie's goal. Emmett still has the ball.

"Like hell you're scoring on me," Rosalie snarls at him.

"C'mon, babe," Emmett says meekly, holding the ball passively in his hands. It seems even he knows better than to try to score at the moment. "You know that I think more than a mouthful is a waste."

"Well, it certainly _looked_ like you had more than a mouthful," Rosalie spits. She's glaring at Emmett and folds her arms in an obstinate gesture.

Emmett only splutters and seems to have completely forgotten that he's playing a game. Frustrated, Edward kicks the ball out of Emmett's hand, catches it, and plops it easily into the goal.

"Yay, Edward!" Bella jumps up and squeals before Jeff has even called the game.

Rosalie sends a flock of birds fleeing for their lives with her low wail that grows into a piercing shriek. She won't even look at Emmett anymore and refocuses her fury on Bella.

"You are on MY team, you fucking IDIOT!!!" she screams and rips a bar off of the goal and begins slashing wildly all around her. Emmett thinks better of trying to talk down his sweetie pie and instead watches her smash and destroy the goal as he slowly backs away.

************************************************************************

Gah! How do these chapters keep getting so long? I swear to you, I had no idea that I was this interesting.

Thank you SystemAurora for setting me straight on the size of Integra's bust line and for sending me a picture to prove it. I have removed all errant references to Integra's flatness from chapter 2. The leader of the Hellsing Organization is seriously pushing a D-cup, and I must say she wears them well, especially the way her long, silky hair cascades all around them…oh, but we're totally straight, right Aurora? Totally…straight…

Before we get too far along, I also want to make sure to thank fanfiction author extraordinaire, Master of the Boot, for being my chief Hellsing advisor. If I were Batman, he would be my Alfred. Thanks, Booty.

Well, tomorrow a.m. I'm off to Jacksonville, FL for a week, so if you don't read this until after I'm gone, please don't think I'm rude if you don't get a response to your review right away. I'll be all over it once I get back, and I would like nothing better than to return home to a mailbox full of reviews from y'all! Okay, look for the next update in about two weeks. Until then, please watch for suspicious activity around my house and don't forget to feed the bunny!

Air hugs to you all,

-LiLa


	4. The chapter of compromising positions

Chapter 4

The chapter fraught with compromising positions

The complete and utter destruction of the soccer goal and a few felled trees in the process has done much to improve Rosalie's mood. In addition, one last loving and sheepish look from Emmett before his tribe disappeared into the forest has set her heart straight, too. In all their years together, he's never once given her reason to doubt him. She knows he'd never intentionally do anything to hurt her. The whole episode was entirely the fault of that busty Hellsing tramp - and she'll get hers when the tribes merge.

"Alright, Tribe Carlisle, we'll meet at the main beach tonight for Tribal Council. You've got the rest of the afternoon to figure out who you're going to vote for." With that dismissal from Jeff Probst, Tribe Carlisle starts their trek back to camp.

Rosalie had performed poorly in the challenge - _very_ poorly, getting distracted and giving up the only goals scored. She has a lot of work to do between now and tonight's Tribal Council. She starts by accepting defeat.

"Sorry guys. I know I let you down. I completely lost my focus and I'm the reason we lost, so I guess it's only fair that I go tonight."

There's a meaningful pause before anyone else says anything, and Rosalie knows that she's voiced precisely what they've all been thinking. Carlisle breaks the heavy silence by saying, "We all make mistakes Rose. Don't beat yourself up about it."

"Yeah," Jasper says with a sly grin. "You can beat Emmett up for it later," and then he playfully nudges her shoulder with his.

Rosalie smiles. She has them right where she wants them. If she'd started out immediately trying to save herself, their hackles would've gone up and their hostility would've fermented. But now, since she'd given in so easily, their defenses are down; they're willing to show her some compassion. And that's how Rosalie likes it.

The forest grows denser so that they have to walk single file. Carlisle and Bella are in front, followed by Rosalie and then Jasper. Rosalie deliberately slows her pace to let Carlisle and Bella get a good distance ahead. Then the ever graceful Rosalie trips over a tree root and falls flat in front of Jasper. Bella and Carlisle turn, but Rosalie waves them on with a "Jasper'll help me."

From the distance, Carlisle gives her a cursory visual exam, determines that she's fine and turns to continue. Bella shrugs and follows him.

Jasper holds out his hand and Rosalie grips him around his lean, but powerful arm. She smiles sweetly at him on her way up and he cocks a dark blond eyebrow over a penetrating, caramel colored eye. He feels a multitude of emotions pouring off of Rosalie, none of which are resignation. "What are you playing at, little girl?" he asks with the hint of a growl.

Rosalie gives him a light, melodious laugh and answers, "Why I believe it's called _Survivor_, dear brother."

"I'm afraid you're not going to be able to bat your pretty eyelashes at this one, sweet Rose," he tells her. "That disaster at the game was pretty definitive."

"Yes," Rosalie sighs as she runs her fingertips delicately over the letters spelling _Nevermind_ on Jasper's rock solid chest, pretending to wipe imaginary lint from his t-shirt. "I suppose that would make sense if the sole purpose of the game was to win these silly challenges, but the _real_ goal is to make it all the way to the end, is it not?"

"Which will be easier to do if we win immunity challenges," he points out.

"Ah, Jasper," Rosalie drawls in her sultry voice. She steps closer and her slender fingers crawl up and begin gently twisting one of his long, bronze locks. Jasper has the power to direct Rosalie's seductive mood toward something more benign, but Rosalie's honey voice and Rosalie's full, pouting lips and Rosalie's effervescent honeysuckle and rose scent have a power of their own, and what kind of man, dead or alive, would willfully turn that off?(1)

"How many team challenges do you think we have left before all three tribes merge into one?" she asks. "One? Maybe two? And what do you think happens then? Our little Bella goes running to team Edward. You saw which side she was cheering for today."

Jasper narrows his eyes in thought and she can see that her point is taken. But he then slides his hands over either side of her narrow waist and grips her, his fingertips practically touching each other. He gives her a small, but firm shake that doesn't move her body any further away from his, but lets her know that he's not going to simply fall for her tricks. Rosalie beams a wicked, confident smile at him, certain that she can parry any obstacle to her logic.

"Do you expect me to believe, little sister, that you _won't_ go running directly to team Emmett?"

Rosalie's eyes crinkle happily at this. It's what she expected. "The difference, my darling brother," she purrs and brings her other arm up to rake both hands through his soft waves of hair while his strong hands stay firmly planted on her bare waist, "is that Emmett will do whatever _I_ say. He'll be joining team Rosalie. Isn't that better than throwing away one of ours to camp Edward, essentially giving _him_ control of this game? Since when have _his_ decisions ever been the best thing for this family?"

Rosalie watches Jasper intently with her liquid gold eyes as he absorbs what she's told him. Rosalie makes a compelling argument from all angles. She knows that buried deep within Jasper is resentment toward Edward for being the unofficial number two in the family. She's not blind to the castrated expression that infects Jasper's dangerous good looks whenever Carlisle's opinion veers in favor of Edward.

Jasper's sharp lips eventually curl into a reluctant sneer as he looks down at Rosalie with something like admiration. "I believe you could sell eternal damnation to the devil himself, so long as he's a man," he growls ruefully.

Rosalie beams a captivating smile on him and says, "That's why you want _me_ on your side."

Jasper emits a low, conspiratorial chuckle, and Rosalie thinks she's won. A burst of heated adrenaline rushes through them both. Rosalie has only flirted with Jasper as a means to her ends, and Jasper has only laid his hands on her to assert a level of control. Yet here they stand: his hands gripping her naked, smooth flesh; his dark, marble-like eyes boring into hers. And here she stands with her fingers entwined in his thick, sensuous waves, her voluptuous curves mere inches away from pressing into his lean, athletic musculature.

The lust pouring off of Rosalie hits Jasper. His empathic power involuntarily magnifies the emotion and bounces it back to Rosalie. Their desire mounts with each passing second, and both of them internally curse their unwavering dedication to their respective mates and this story's strict adherence to its 'T' rating.

"Are you guys coming?" shouts Bella, who has backtracked to see what's keeping them.

Rosalie and Jasper glance quickly at her and drop their hands from their incriminating positions. Then they both call out innocently, "Coming!"

One might say – if one had a very poor sort of sense of humor – that they were saved by the Bella.

* * *

On Hellsing beach, Walter stands with his thin face pinched into an almost painful expression. But pain is not what he's feeling. The vampires are sleeping in their coffins and Integra kneels in front of him with her lips wrapped around something long and sort of mushy. She sucks in hard every time Walter grunts.

"Perhaps a little break would be in order," Walter tentatively suggests, sounding a bit frustrated.

Integra jerks her head back and barks, "Walter, I swear to God I need this. You'd better make it work!"

"You must understand, Sir Integra, it's been a good many years since I've gotten so much as a spark out of these things. And I still think it's a mistake for you to try to light your cigar directly from the flint. It's dangerous. Let me take a break and then I'll get a nice fire started and you can use that," Walter requests as he lays down the block of flint and the rock he'd been striking it against.

Integra clutches the cigar between her teeth – she needs the familiarity of that much, anyhow – and stands up, wiping the sand from her suit pants. Her typically pallid complexion is flushed.

"You look overheated, Sir Integra. Why don't we go for a swim?" Walter says.

"A swim? That sounds lovely, but we need to get to work on that shelter," Integra answers crisply.

"We won't get very far if we collapse with heat stroke while we're building it, Walter reasons. "We can cool off in the water, and then I'll build a nice fire so you can have a cigar while we work. How does that sound?"

"Very well," Integra reluctantly acquiesces. "Let's change into our suits and go swimming."

* * *

Alice, Edward and Emmett are also swimming – fishing to be exact. Alice and Edward have eaten their fill, but Emmett has gone deeper in search of big game, hoping it will help ease some of his recent, er, frustrations.

Edward hopes it does the trick. He's getting tired of watching the scenario that Emmett keeps replaying in his mind. The poor guy can't seem to shake it. It's what he'd been picturing when he'd sat catatonic on Edward's shoulders at the challenge earlier - _the vision of Emmett rollicking in a dreamy meadow and looking up to see a near-naked Seras running in slow motion toward him. The two of them get closer and closer, while Emmett's eyes stay riveted on certain parts of Seras that get bouncier and bouncier. Then, just as the two of them are about to embrace, the dream fizzles out, and all that races through Emmett's head for the next several minutes is the groaning lament of BURNT…BURNT…BURNT…while a voice that sounds suspiciously like Rosalie's rages in the background_.(2)

While Emmett's away, Edward and Alice tread in the crystal blue water and talk strategy. Alice has been unable to conjure a stable vision of who's going to be voted out tonight. It keeps changing between Rosalie and Bella.

"Oh, but it just has to be Rose out tonight, right?" Alice says, trying to reassure herself.

"Possibly," Edward answers. "Although the fact that they sat Bella out would indicate that they see her as their weakest player."

"Maybe before the challenge they saw it that way – but Rosalie fell apart. There's no way they'd keep her after that."

"Remember what Jeff said last night," Edward warns. "You never know what's going to happen in this game."

Alice's eyes grow bigger and she looks a little green. "Oh, Edward, do you think I should've let Jasper score, you know, to keep Bella and Jasper safe?"

"No," Edward answers firmly. "Never ever throw a challenge. It's the worst thing you can do in this game. Look what happened to Burton in Pearl Islands – he was the ringmaster behind throwing the challenge, and then _he_ gets voted out. And then Peih-Gee and Jamie do it again in China, only to piss everyone off and lose their trust," Edward says emphatically.

"You watch Survivor?" Alice asks, unable to keep the shock out of her voice.

"Uh, no, I…uh…rented a couple seasons from Netflix for research. Yeah, research." Edward finishes stumbling around his answer just before Emmett's messy black-haired head pops up. Edward is relieved to see that the only thing on his brother's mind at the moment is the big-ass barracuda he just annihilated.

* * *

Rosalie creates an opportunity to talk to Carlisle by sending Bella out alone to dig up the bags of blood for dinner. Bella is so certain that Rosalie will be leaving tonight that she's bending over backwards to be nice to her, something she hasn't done in a long time.

While she's gone, Rosalie quickly lays out her case for voting Bella out. Carlisle doesn't disagree with her logic, but he has reservations. "I just hate to do anything that will make Bella feel like she's not a welcome member of this family," he says.

"Not a welcome member!" Rosalie exclaims, not even trying to hide her exasperation. "I really don't see what more we can do to make her feel welcome into this family – was diving headlong into what could've been World War III to save her baby not enough? Or risking our asses to save her from Victoria and that pack of rabid, newborn vampires?"

Carlisle opens his mouth as if to say something, but Rosalie is on a role and charges on. "And let's see, why was it we all tore down to Arizona to fight that psychotic killer/tracker/nomad vampire? Oh yeah, it was to save somebody…who was it…um…BELLA?" She inhales sharply to calm herself, but her voice still rings with a quiet intensity when she says, "Carlisle, if none of that proves to her that she's part of this family, I doubt keeping her in this stupid game for one more lousy week will do the trick."

Jasper stands to the side, gauging the waves of determination from Rosalie and uncertainty from Carlisle, trying to figure out which way this thing is going to go.

* * *

Walter and Integra have dried off and Walter is busy over a tiny teepee of sticks. He's striking the flint, trying to cause a spark big enough to effect a flame in the scruffy pile of tinder inside the teepee. Integra hovers impatiently over him, cigar clenched tightly between her teeth. Her eyes are trained desperately on the flint as if the very future of mankind depends upon it. Every time a spark flares, her eyes grow round and her mouth curls at the corners in a somewhat maniacal expression. Every time the spark withers without any result, her teeth clamp down menacingly on the cigar.

Finally, Walter casts the spark that catches and the tinder crackles and flames. Integra gives a small gasp of delight and impetuously thrusts her head to the flame. A long line of her straight blonde hair swings forward with the sudden movement and reaches the flame before her cigar. The hungry flames grasp at the strands of her hair.

"Sir Integra!" Walter shouts.

Integra jerks her head back and looks with horror at the fire that is clawing up the ends of her hair. A sizzling hiss fills her ears. Before she even has half a second to react further, the lid blasts off one of the coffins and she finds herself bent back over the beach, supported by a pair very strong, cold hands – one at the small of her back and one at the back of her head. Her savior kneels beside her and douses the renegade flames in the sand.

In the quickness of the moment, Integra's hands have reached for support, and she's now clutching at the white, ruffley fabric of a Victorian era man-blouse. Her eyes travel to Alucard's face and she shrinks back slightly from the look of pure fury that he's leveling at her.

"What were you thinking?" he asks in a deep, rumbling voice that is about to boil over.

The instensity of Alucard's burning, red eyes has temporarily paralyzed Integra, and her cigar only stays afloat because it is sticking to the sudden dryness inside her mouth.

"U – uh," she croaks.

Alucard violently jerks his dark head toward Walter and demands, "Walter, how could you let this happen?"

The brief reprieve from Alucard's glare is all Integra needs to recollect herself. Her frustration quickly remounts and she is pissed. She grips the cigar once again between her teeth and snaps, "I just want one fucking smoke! Is that really so much to ask?"

Alucard still firmly holds her in a near-lying position beneath him. He whips his sharp face back to hers and their eyes lock. He presses his red lips together in a wide smirk. Intgra's not sure what that smirk means, but she refuses to flinch again beneath his penetrating gaze. Without taking his crimson eyes off of hers, Alucard pulls the cigar from her mouth and reaches his long arm back to the flames, which now encompass the teepee.

He returns the now burning cigar to her lips and she takes a long pull, sucking the sweet, savory tobacco flavor into her mouth. It tastes like heaven, and anything else that may have been occupying the Hellsing leader's brain slips away. She closes her eyes and lays her head back, relying only on Alucard's strength to hold her up. The rest of her flaxen hair spills out onto the beach as she slowly exhales the smoke and murmurs, "Ecstasy…"

The sweet smoke floats up to Alucard and he inhales deeply. The expression on his face as he stares down at the smooth, exposed throat of his master would imply that her murmured word expresses his feelings precisely. He can't think of a time when she's put herself so wholly and so vulnerably into his hands. Is she simply being reckless again, or does she trust him that much - enough to resist the temptation that she's laid out on a platter before him?

Does she not understand how badly he wants to run the tip of his pointed tongue along the warm flesh of her elegant throat, how much he wants to lean down and press his lips into the soft skin beneath her jaw, to open wide and make her quiver as he sucks down to the base of her neck? Once there, does she not know that nothing would stop him from sinking his razor teeth into her muscle to drink her Hellsing blood, making her writhe and squirm in an overwhelming mixture of pain and true ecstasy?

She knows he would never end her, but does she know that he'd drink enough so that when he'd finished and when he'd kissed his way back up her throat and looked into her face with her thick, hot blood still dripping from his teeth – does she know that she would then lift her aristocratic head and open her pedigreed eyes and call _him_ master?

Alucard is yanked from his reverie when Integra does, in fact, lift her head and open her eyes, but instead of calling him master, she pats his chest as one would a puppy dog's head and says in a chipper, British sort of way, "Right then, let's get to building that shelter."

She unceremoniously pushes herself away from his support and stands up. She then scans the beach and scrunches her face in confusion. "Walter, what did you do with my jacket?"

"Sir?" Walter says questioningly as he tends the fire that is now roaring.

"I laid it right over there in the sand before we went swimming. Where is it?"

"It's right by mine, si-" Walter starts, but stops when he sees that his suit coat, too, is missing.

They are distracted from the mystery of the missing jackets by a few very large drops of rain dripping onto them. Integra jumps and immediately moves a hand to protect the lit end of her precious cigar. Then all eyes go to the darkening sky, which none of them had noticed was being rapidly overtaken by rolling, black clouds.

"Ugh," Integra grunts, looking toward their useless heap of lumber. "We have no shelter!"

"That's true, sir," Walter says calmly.

The drops begin falling with greater frequency and Walter steps away from the doomed fire that is now getting splattered. Instead of lamenting his wasted efforts, Walter's quick, steady mind moves to the task at hand.

"I noted a stony outcropping along the coast earlier; perhaps there will be an overhang there where we can string the tarps for temporary cover," he suggests.

"Looks like our best option," Integra says decisively. "Alucard, waken Seras. We'll load the tarps and food into the coffins and carry them to the outcropping. Let's move," she commands, still cupping a hand over the tip of her cigar as the rain increases and the wind joins the party.

* * *

Carlisle leads Rosalie, Jasper and Bella through the vibrant, green foliage of the forest that is bending and swaying in the increasingly violent wind. The rain is now coming down in buckets and all four of them are sopping wet by the time they reach Tribal circle. Jeff Probst is once again adorned with his forehead flashlight because the tiki torches will not stay lit.

"Welcome, Tribe Carlisle. You picked a nasty night to have to come out. Have a seat," he says. As soon as they get situated in the pummeling rain, Jeff gets down to business. "Rosalie, feeling vulnerable?"

"Of course, Jeff," she answers haughtily. "I screwed up in the challenge, and I accept full responsibility for that. I'm the reason we're sitting here tonight." Her hair is plastered along the sides of her angelic face in perfect waves, and the rain steams down it like a golden waterfall. Raindrops glisten and highlight her high cheekbones and lush eyelashes. Even in these less than desirable circumstances, Rosalie emerges as a glorious water nymph.

"So you're saying that the tribe should put your name down tonight?" Jeff asks.

"I'm saying that the tribe needs to vote the way that will benefit the individual members of Tribe Carlisle through the end of the game," she says and smiles sweetly through the sheets of rain.

Jeff shields his eyes from the rain with a one handed visor and peels his eyes from Rosalie to look to her immediate left. "Bella, would you agree with that?"

If Rosalie is a water nymph, then Bella is a drowned rat. Her mousy brown hair hangs in strings alongside her pretty, but relatively plain features, and her innocent eyes are open wide with sorrow at what she has to do tonight. "Well, I think that the tribe would be better off if we could all stay, but we have to vote for someone, so yeah, I agree with what she said. But we're going to miss her," she adds and reaches out to squeeze Rosalie's hand.

Rosalie's smile hardens into something that could hardly be called a smile anymore. Probst notes the change in expression, but moves on; he wants to wrap up this council and get out of the monsoon and back to his luxury digs as soon as possible. "Jasper, what are you basing your vote on?" he asks.

Jasper pulls his fingers through the honey-colored hair that has flopped over his face and combs it back, sending a spray of water out behind him. His black t-shirt clings to every one of his lean muscles - and good Lord, someone needs to put that boy on an Abercrombie bag. His lazy voice cuts through a rumble of thunder with its perpetual hint of a growl. "I'm basing my vote on the strategy I think will take me furthest in this game, which at least partly depends on who I can trust," he answers.

"Fair enough," Jeff says. "How about you, Carlisle? How are you making your decision?"

"It's not an easy one, I'll tell you that," says the good doctor. He is one of those rare, Robert-Redfordlike specimens who's not only a doctor in real life, but also looks like he could play one on TV. His genuine compassion in the midst of the storm only makes him that much more appealing. "Each of these vampires adds something to the team, so no matter who goes, the tribe is worse off. And I hope that when the votes are read, the person leaving understands that we love her and respect her opinion very much."

"Okay, let's get to this," Jeff says and they head up to vote.

Bella writes a name and looks apologetically into the camera, saying, "Nothing personal."

Rosalie drops her paper into the urn and remarks callously, "Better you than me."

Jasper writes a name and explains, "It wasn't supposed to be you. But Carlisle and I had a heart to heart just before we left, and I think this is the best strategy for me right now."

Carlisle sighs heavily as he writes a name on the card. He drops it into the urn and says, "I'm sorry it went this way. Take care of my Esme for me. She'll be happy to see you." Then he winks at the camera in a very fatherly way and walks back to his seat.

Jeff grabs the urn and sits down on his drenched stump. He's pulled on a campy safari hat to rest on top of the flashlight and the water flows off of the edges, making him look rather like a giant shower head. He shelters each card under the lid of the urn and beams the flashlight onto them.

"First vote, _Bella_," he says and holds it up briefly for the others to see. Bella glances inadvertently at Rosalie, looking slightly hurt, but not surprised.

"Second vote, _Rosalie_," he announces. Again, no one is surprised that Bella and Rosalie's votes have cancelled each other out. It's the next one that will be telling.

"Third vote, _Bella_." Bella gasps and looks confused. "That's one vote _Rosalie_, two votes _Bella_, one vote left," Jeff explains to anyone who can't count. He pulls up the final card, pauses for dramatic effect and says, "Second person voted out of Survivor: Vampire Island – _Bella_."

Bella stands up quickly and turns to glare at her family, betrayal written all over her face. She is biting her lip and the rain streaming down her face is a perfect simulation for the shocked tears she wants to cry.

"No flame to extinguish tonight, but bring me your torch," Jeff requests. She holds her quivering chin up and carries her torch over to him. She can't believe this is happening. Probst takes the torch, saying, "The tribe has spoken."

Bella gives her family one last injured look and impetuously stomps her foot like a frustrated child, splashing a fountain of waves from the puddle at her feet all over herself. She then turns and runs down the walk of shame that will lead her to the boat that will take her away from the island.

* * *

Tribe Hellsing did one better than an overhang in the rocky outcropping. They found a cave. Walter had spotted a man-sized opening and further exploration revealed a large, high ceilinged cavern. They'd stooped and carried the coffins through a short tunnel to the big room where they now sat on top of them in the inky blackness of the cool, but dry cave. The only light is from the glowing, orange tip of the cigar that Integra has managed to preserve throughout the whole ordeal.

The overall mood is subdued, but Alucard seems particularly pleased with the situation and has already made several comments to his master that he always knew they'd end up entombed together.

* * *

Meanwhile, Alice, Emmett and Edward recline comfortably in their villa. Alice lays on her stomach, leaning on her elbows with her feet kicked up in the air. Across from her, Emmett sits hunched over a gameboard with his legs crossed Indian style. They're playing checkers with pieces that Emmett has made out of leftover wood scraps.

Edward entertains them further with a tune on the flute that he whittled from a tree branch. They all agree that the rain pattering on their foolproof, watertight roof provides a lovely percussion accompaniment.

.

.

.

*********

Footnotes:

(1) Description of Rosalie is stolen with permission from fanfiction story, My Sister Rosalie by geophf. It's a wonderful story, and it's on my favorites if you want to check it out.

(2) Full credit for Emmett's recurring vision goes to highly imaginative fanfiction author EZB, who was inspired by happenings in the last chapter. Wonder what he'll conjure after the Walter/Integra scene in this one…

************************************************************************

Author Notes:

As per usual, it has taken me longer than expected to get where I'm going, so……remember when I said we'd start reader voting at about Chapter 5? Well, looks like it's actually going to start in Chapter 6. There will be a challenge and a tribal in the next chapter (_my_ final vote), and then another challenge and _reader_ voting in the one after that, okay?

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story and/or added it on your favorites and alerts. You are all so awesome! Special thanks to SystemAurora and Metropolis Kid for your thorough answers to my questions. In keeping with the Batman theme – Aurora you can be my Robin, the boy wonder (and even though we are now both men in tights, we're still totally straight, right? Totally...straight...) and MetroK - you seem like a smart fella - how about you be that Morgan Freeman guy who invents all the stuff. And to Alfred - you know what you did.


	5. The chapter in which Alucard squeals

Chapter 5

The chapter in which Alucard squeals

The storm rages through the night and doesn't relent until the early afternoon. Soon after the rains stop, a rather scraggly group of eight vampires and two humans re-converge on the main beach. Hair is left uncoifed, shadows have grown darker under eyes, and clothing is increasingly damp and worn. Integra and Walter never did find their jackets, so the two typically most formally dressed contestants are down to their dirty, rolled-up shirtsleeves.

In contrast to the beleaguered-looking contestants, Jeff Probst shows up fresh as a daisy. His khaki cargos and button down shirt are crisply pressed, and he gives off the scent of clean water and toothpaste and musky, Irish Spring soap – manly, yes, but I like it, too. As the sun reclaims the now open sky and beams down on the ravaged beach, which is strewn with vegetative debris from the sea and the forest, the Survivor host shines like a beacon of all that is civilized and well groomed in this world. His unwavering presence is reassuring to the survivors, who increasingly feel the instability of being pulled further and further from what had formerly been their lives.

"Glad to see you all made it through the storm," Probst says in greeting. "Tribes Hellsing and Esme are getting their first look at the new Tribe Carlisle. Bella voted out last night."

Alice, Edward and Emmett already know this, because Alice finally had a vision the night before. Edward and Alice are shocked and heartbroken, but Emmett is nothing but impressed with his girl for pulling off the seemingly impossible feat of saving herself. The three remaining members of Tribe Carlisle know they've got some explaining to do to Edward. They also know that he's currently searching their minds for that explanation.

_I'm so sorry, son. It seemed like the best strategy for the family. She'll be a great comfort to Esme,_ Carlisle thinks.

_Tough break, man. Tell Alice I'm sorry_, Jasper mentally apologizes.

_Suck it, Edward_, Rosalie gloats. Even in her thoughts, she gloats.

"Hellsing sitting someone out today, leaving three players on each team. Each tribe will select two players to row one of these three rowboats out to those buoys," Jeff says and points to three buoys that are bobbing in the ocean about a hundred feet out. "Once there, you will retrieve a set of keys and a map. You will then row back to the shore to give the map and the keys to your waiting tribemate.

"As Tribes Esme and Hellsing know, we collected the immunity idols from you last night after Tribal Council," Jeff says.

Both Alice and Seras give a little shudder when the idol is mentioned. The half-human/half-bat carving in the rich, red South American Bloodwood has an undeniably ominous quality to it. The snarling, oversized face of the bat head gives Alice the 'heebie jeebies' while the satanic upward spread of its wings sprouting from the narrow, human-like body gives Seras the 'willies.' Neither one of the vampirettes had regretted seeing the statue leave camp last night, as it had meant that they wouldn't have to stare at it – or rather, have _it_ stare at _them _- all night.

"On this beach are buried three treasure chests – the immunity idols are now inside two of them, while the other remains empty. Each of the maps show where all three chests are buried. The waiting tribemates must decide which chest to go for first. This game is going to rely on both skill and luck - pick the wrong chest, and it could be the end of the game for you. I'll give you a few minutes to strategize."

The teams dole out assignments, and then Walter and Alucard step up to the first boat. Alucard has a vial of dirt from his homeland tied to a chord around his neck. Carlisle and Rosalie step up to the second boat, and Emmett and Alice to the third.

"Integra is sitting out this challenge," Jeff explains. "So Seras, Jasper and Edward will wait here on the beach for the maps and keys. You six," he says, turning to the boaters, "will start on my go.

"Survivors ready?

"Go!"

It's a sunny day, so Alucard cannot mutate from his human form in the sunlight, but he's still about twenty times stronger than the average human, so he and Walter have a bit of trouble as they work to equalize the strength and frequency of their strokes. Similarly, Alice's quick, feathery strokes are only able to temporarily offset Emmett's deep plunges.

"Hellsing is spinning in circles. They need to learn how to work together. Meanwhile, Alice and Emmett are zig zagging across the water, getting steadily _further_ from their buoy. But it looks like Carlisle and Rosalie have the system down and are gliding easily to their buoy," Jeff says.

A few minutes later, his running commentary changes. "Walter and Alucard seem to have figured it out and they're now moving toward their buoy. Emmett and Alice back on the course, but they're making it look like a _crash_ course. Rosalie and Carlisle in the lead as they arrive at their buoy. Carlisle steers the boat while Rosalie grabs the keys. Carlisle steadily navigates around the buoy and she now has the map.

"Hellsing's at their buoy," Jeff announces and then he's distracted by a new development. "Emmett and Alice take a wicked veer towards Carlisle and Rosalie's boat!"

Rosalie is still standing after grabbing the goodies from the buoy and turns to look just as Emmett and Alice's boat crashes into hers.

"Oh!" Jeff shouts. "It's turned into a game of bumper boats and Rosalie is in the water!"

"Shit! Sorry, babe," Emmett shouts to his wife, who is still under the water. Alice takes advantage of his distraction and the absence of his too-powerful strokes and quickly paddles them to their buoy.

Alucard has snatched the Hellsing keys and Walter deftly maneuvers their boat to the other side.

"Rosalie pulls herself gracefully up and into her boat, and Team Carlisle takes back the lead in this race."

Upon this announcement, Alucard becomes a bit overzealous and rips the map from the buoy with such force that he rocks his boat to the side with the backwards momentum. His undead arse is dangerously close to falling into the moving body of water. He whips his mess of black tangles around and his eyes blaze on the rapidly approaching sea. And then Alucard – Hellsing's most terrifying weapon, conqueror of death, king of evil – squeals.

Like a little girl.

The high pitched shriek rings out over the waves and everyone halts whatever they'd been doing to look toward the sharp sound. Except Walter. Walter stands up in the tilting boat and sets his foot on the rising edge. He shoves his oar past Alucard, who continues to stare helplessly at his impending doom. Walter thrusts the oar against the wave while he throws his weight in the opposite direction. Just like a movie stuntman, he releases one hand from the oar and grabs onto Alucard's arm, pulling him in the same direction. The power of the slight man rocks the boat and Alucard slams down into his seat as the boat follows Walter's lead.

The boat rocks violently back and forth, with Walter expertly shifting his weight until it has righted itself. The Nosferatu vampire is free from danger. Walter admires his handiwork with a mildly pleased expression on his face and rhetorically comments, "Well, that worked out nicely, didn't it?"

Alucard stays mute, but his eyes flick back and forth as he takes in the fact that he's been saved. With his safety in tact, he begins to replay the last few moments in his head. He remembers the squeal. He squints his red eyes unpleasantly and looks around him. Everyone else, whose attention up until a moment ago had been riveted on the shrieking monster, suddenly scrambles to get back to whatever they'd been at before. Even Seras, Jasper and Edward, who are only waiting on the beach, begin madly working together to mound up a pile of sand as if they're making a giant sand castle. Anything to avoid looking at the squealer.

Jeff tactfully edits his commentary. "Hellsing straightens out its boat and they're back in this race."

"Do you still have the map and keys?" Walter asks as he happily rows the boat single handedly back to shore.

"Alucard looks down at his iron fist with knuckles bulging out around the items he'd been squeezing in terror and answers quietly, "Yes."

Walter notices Alucard's eyes darting self consciously about at the other players. The dapper butler says reassuringly, "I'm certain no on else heard, Alucard."

Alucard's eyes snap threateningly onto him and he asks in a deep hiss, "Heard what?"

"Exactly so," Walter responds lightly as he rows to shore. "Exactly so."

A few strokes later he beaches the boat. They're the second boat to shore. Carlisle and Rosalie landed about ninety seconds earlier and Jasper is already busy scooping up the sand at what he estimates to be the location of the central treasure chest.

"Good luck, Miss Victoria," Walter says and hands Seras the map and key.

"Seras studies her map, and she's heading for the location at the far left," Jeff says.

As luck would have it, a heavy cloud passes over the sun just as Seras begins digging. She tries out her shadow arm and is delighted when she's able to conjure a garden-sized spade.

"Seras making quick work of that hole. But is she digging in the right spot? Tribe Esme is finally back with their map and Edward's not wasting any time as he heads straight to Jasper. He's going to piggy back off of his brother's work and dig for the same treasure chest."

Edward knows he won't be able to dig up that third chest before the others already have theirs, so his plan is to steal this chest away from Jasper.

"Seras pulls out her chest with both hands...easy, Emmett," Jeff jokes. "But does it contain an idol?" Seras selects one of the keys on her ring. The tip of her sharp, pink tongue sticks out between her lips as she concentrates on opening the lock. The first key doesn't work. "Ooh," she groans in frustration and quickly moves on to the next.

"Jasper's got his chest!" Jeff announces excitedly. Edward leans in to snatch it away, but Jasper turns, cradling the chest of wood to his bare chest of solid, stone flesh, and dives to the sand, protecting his treasure box. Edward grabs onto Jasper's shoulders, intending to pull him up, but Jasper is a crafty one and before the competition, he'd slathered on an extra helping of the protective sunscreen oil provided by CBS, just in case. It is Jasper's philosophy that you never know when a bit of slippery lubricant is going to come in handy.

Edward doesn't notice the glossy sheen on the taught muscles of Jasper's shoulders until his hands are slipping off of them. Jasper takes advantage of Edward's momentary surprise and lands a powerful kick to Edward's crotch, sending him flying ten feet back. Edward lies doubled up in the sand, clutching desperately at his own personal treasure box, which is now throbbing with pain.

Before Probst can comment on the rough play between the Cullen boys, he's shouting, "And Hellsing finds the first immunity idol!"

Seras is tremendously happy to see the fierce-looking idol snarling at her. She proudly holds it up by the narrow body just as the cloud releases the sun. A beam is cast directly onto the idol and catches on a tiny crystal embedded in the fold of body's arms, which are crossed over the chest. No one had paid this spec of glass much attention before, but now it dances with the reflection of the rich, red wood that surrounds it. The crystal glows and pulsates like a human heart and the sight is mesmerizing. Integra and Walter gasp as they rush over to congratulate her. But Alucard hasn't noticed and continues to brood in the beached boat, eyeing everyone suspiciously.

Jasper doesn't pay any attention to the idol, either. He's making his way swiftly through his set of keys. On the third try, the lock opens and he tears open the lid to find – nothing. No idol.

"Second chest is empty," Jeff announces.

Jasper quickly flicks his gaze over to Edward, who shakes off his injury when he realizes what this means. The idol is in the third chest, which he is now closer to, thanks to Jasper's kick. The Cullen boys lock eyes for a brief, intense moment before launching themselves to the third X on the map.

"Edward locates the spot for the final chest and starts digging," Jeff explains. "Oh! Jasper elbows him out of the way and is in this hunt. He's repaid with an elbow to the gut as Edward digs his way deeper into the hole." This is how it continues – shoving and digging and shoving and digging – until both of their hands crash into something hard. In unison, they lean head first into the hole, but before their fingers can find purchase on the object of their desire, it seems to sink deeper and they lose their grip.

"What the hell?" Jasper murmurs and cautiously retreats a bit from the hole.

Edward doesn't waste time wondering what's going on and keeps frantically digging downward. He's determined to win this thing if only to pay back Jasper, Carlisle and Rosalie for voting out his cara sposa. In his hyper-focused determination, he's dug himself so far down that his entire torso is out of sight.

Jasper sits back. First of all, Edward is hogging the entire hole, but besides that, Jasper has a plan. He'll let Eddie boy do the work, and when he pulls the chest up, Jasper will literally take it from there.

"Shit!" Jasper suddenly shouts. Then he gets up and tears back to the other chest.

Jeff notes the keys dangling from the lock of the second chest and says, "Jasper left his keys back at the other chest. Won't do him much good there."

At vampire speed, Jasper yanks the keys out. When he turns back, he sees that more of his brother has disappeared into the hole, and he hears a muffled cry from Edward. Jasper knows something's up. Something bad. Edward didn't do that by himself; he can feel Edward's panic and confusion. All thought of the game is pushed out of his mind and he jumps to save Edward.

No one else realizes that there's trouble. They think it's all part of the game, so Jasper's on his own with no time to explain what's going on – Edward is now in to his knees.

Jasper leaps to the hole, braces his knees on the beach and plunges himself in far enough to get a firm grasp on the waistband of Edward's shorts. Edward's feet are sticking straight out on either side of Jasper. Jasper tugs and feels the shorts slip over his brother's hip bone. Edward is stuck fast in the sand. Jasper gives another yank and feels the shorts slip further. This isn't going to work.

Jasper slides his fingers onto Edward's now bare hips and grasps onto the V-shaped muscles on either side. He presses his fingers tightly against Edward's smooth skin and heaves. This time the sand eases a teensy bit of its grip on Edward, and Jasper feels progress. He digs his knees more firmly into the beach above and gives a powerful pull. This time he meets with zero resistance. Nothing at all. Edward flies up through the tiny granules as if there'd never been a problem at all. He comes up so unexpectedly swiftly that before Jasper can react, his brother's solid bum smacks him square in the face and he's knocked backwards onto the beach, where he lies with his brother sitting on top of him.

Edward – dazed and not realizing exactly what he's sitting on – stays perched on Jasper's nose and chokes out sand, his body jerking with the effort. Jasper appears too stunned to even move, and Jeff once again finds himself fumbling for an appropriate comment.

The others stare on in shock and perhaps a bit of horror. A slow, mischievous grin begins to spread across Emmett's face as he begins to formulate all the shit he's going to give his brothers after this little stunt. Alucard, for the first time since his squeal, seems to have become distracted by other thoughts as he watches Edward's finely sculpted bum grind into Jasper's face with each cough. The wistful expression that crosses Alucard's face implies a symphony of emotions that have rarely stirred in the ancient Nosferatu outside one of Master of the Boot's deranged stories.

Jeff finds his voice and comments, "Edward is gripping onto the third and final chest, but he doesn't seem to know what to do with it."

The sound of Jeff's voice seems to revive Edward, and he gives his head a firm shake. He regains his bearings and stares at the sandy, wooden chest in his hands. Jasper also seems to have perked up, and he laces his set of keys through his knuckles like spikes and drives them into Edward's thigh.

"Ahh!" Edward shouts and looks down, first becoming aware of Jasper underneath him. "Oh," he murmurs, and then his eyes travel up Jasper's torso and he figures out exactly where his brother's face is. Louder and with more conviction, he shouts, "OH!"

He shoots straight up to standing and jumps to the other side of the beach, chest firmly in hand. When he feels Jasper slam forcefully into his back a couple seconds later, he realizes that keeping Jasper trapped beneath him would have been the wiser choice. But at what cost?

He has no time to ponder such trivialities, however, because Jasper has sent him careening to the ground atop the treasure chest, which cracks and splinters under his rock-solid weight. Edward feels the sharp points of the idol's wings jabbing into his abdomen. He can simply reach down and grab it, but he knows Probst is a stickler for the rules, so he pushes off the beach with one hand, flipping himself over and on top of Jasper again, but in a less homosexual way. He jabs the lucky key into the lock, throws it open, and pulls the idol from the wreckage. He thrusts the elongated ticket to immunity into the air with a victorious whoop.

"Edward has it!" Jeff shouts. "Final immunity goes to Tribe Esme. Tribe Carlisle, I've got some bad news for you. I'll be seeing you again tonight at Tribal Council, where you'll vote out your second member."

Edward turns to Jasper underneath him with a cocky smirk and drawls, "Tough break, man."

* * *

It's a silent walk home for Tribe Carlisle. There are only three of them left; the vote is going to come down to two against one. Rosalie wants Jasper out. She knows he'll be in cahoots with Alice the second the tribes merge, whereas Carlisle is a free agent with no automatic loyalties. Likewise, Jasper is through with Rosalie. He's seen all too clearly how adept she is at manipulation, and the indifference he felt from her the moment Bella had departed had told him that he'd been a fool to trust her.

Carlisle merely wants what's best for his family. Exactly what that is, he isn't quite sure.

They arrive back at camp and silently go through the motions of bringing wood to the beach for a fire later tonight. Rosalie's already tried every trick she knows to get Carlisle alone, but Jasper is sticking to them like glue.

Rosalie can't take it anymore. "Fine. I'm just going to come right out and say it – Carlisle, the only intelligent choice for you to make is to vote for Jasper. You know that we're going to be merging soon and Jasper is obviously a bigger threat to you in individual immunity challenges. I'm voting for Jasper tonight and I suggest you do the same."

"Bullshit, Rosalie!" Jasper exclaims. "Don't fall for it, Carlisle. She's a manipulative little snake. Maybe I'm a bigger threat physically, but you know you can trust me. If we vote out Rosalie tonight, then I give you my word, Carlisle, I'll stick by you to the end."

"Oh vomit, Jasper," Rosalie gripes and then mimics him in a dopey voice, "_You can trust me, Carlisle_. Give me a break. The last thing you can do in this game is to trust anyone. You've got to do what you've got to do for yourself and screw warm and fuzzy ideas like trust."

"Well, Carlisle," Jasper says in a sure, easy voice, "that should be all the evidence you need to know who you want to align with."

Rosalie opens her spiteful mouth to retaliate, but Carlisle finally holds up his hands and says, "Please, both of you. I hear what you're saying. You both make excellent points, and I will take all that into consideration in making my decision. But we only have a few hours left before we have to leave, so let's not spend the rest of our limited time together arguing."

Although both Rosalie and Jasper want to press their cases, they see that Carlisle's vote shop is officially closed for business and bite their tongues – for now.

"Here," Carlisle says, digging up bags of blood and tossing them all around. "Have a drink. I want to tell you something," he says gravely.

Rosalie and Jasper tear open their bags and sip while they curiously eye their foster father.

"I know that I told you we needn't worry about Alucard stepping out of bounds in the context of this game, and I still believe that, but as I watch our family members getting voted out one by one, I've become concerned about something else. I see the very real possibility that they will soon be joined by Alucard. Even after tonight's vote, we Cullens will still have the numbers, and if we merge, voting Alucard out will be in our best interest – _our_ best interest, but not necessarily in the best interest of those that have already been eliminated. Outside of this game, there's no telling what that monster is capable of."

"What exactly are you afraid of Carlisle?" Rosalie asks and then adds with a heavy dose of sarcasm, "That he's going to squeal them to death?"

Jasper snorts, but Carlisle snaps in a harsher tone than they're used to hearing from him, "Do _not_ underestimate his cruelty!"

"Whoah, Carlisle," Jasper soothes. "We believe you. It's just that we haven't exactly seen anything all that remarkable or intimidating from him. He blocked a mean goal, but other than that, he seems like nothing more than a lazy, overrated prick. Maybe if you tell us more about your history with him, we'll be able to understand why you've formed this opinion."

Carlisle lets out a slow, pained sigh. He doesn't want to talk about it. He's spent a lot of his immortal existence trying to forget about it. But he sees that it's the only way he's going to get through to them. He has suddenly lost his appetite, but Jasper and Rosalie drain their bags. Carlisle looks into their vegan eyes that have settled into a muddy gold color; their appetites are being staved off with their rations, but they are not satiated. Never satiated.

"I knew Alucard in 1914," he begins, "at the beginning of the first World War. The Great War. I'd been living in England at the time and Alucard had been, er, _recruited_ by the Hellsing Organization about two decades earlier. Europe was moving dangerously closer to war as the conflict between Austria and Serbia escalated, with Germany chomping at the bit on the sidelines, waiting to make its move. It was clearly only a matter of time before all of Europe broke into battle. Being a doctor, I felt called to be there to heal the wounded once we inevitably took to the battlefields, and so, I enlisted in the British army as a medic. Hellsing's loyalties have always been to the crown, and so they, too, prepared themselves to assist the British military in any way they could.

"Germany had hoped that England would stay out of the fight, but when the German army overtook Belgium – a country that had clearly declared its neutrality - England could no longer sit still, and we went to war. I spent many long days and nights healing the wounded. I didn't need rest and I didn't want it. Everyone around me was overburdened with the wounded that continued to pour in, and the medical tent was a flurry of constant activity, so no one ever questioned why I never took a break. We managed to save many men. We lost many more.

"All the while, The British army was evaluating Hellsing's most powerful weapon – Alucard, although he went by a different name back then. He was as lethal as an entire battalion, but the military had to be careful about using him. He was an unknown and untested quantity to them. They had to be sure they could trust him to obey their orders and they had to understand his abilities. Hellsing was naturally cautious about sharing too much information with them. Alucard was their prized asset, after all, and widespread knowledge of his full capabilities could be detrimental the organization in the future. And so, the vetting proceeded slowly, but it was eventually agreed that Alucard would be used discreetly, in secret missions designed to cripple the enemy from the inside.

"During this time, Abraham VanHelsing, who was still actively involved with Hellsing's operations even though he was an elderly gentleman by then, would visit the wounded soldiers in the infirmary after battle. In my singular focus on healing the injured, I hadn't noticed him, but he had certainly been observing me. He noticed things about me that no one else had and soon figured out what I was. He became convinced that the true purpose for my presence there was to feed on the helpless. He was horrified and began to visit more frequently, seeking an opportunity to destroy me. But as he watched me care diligently for the patients and noted my complete lack of predatorial behavior around them, he came to understand that I was a different kind of vampire. When no one else was watching, he saw me disappear into the surrounding forests and correctly assumed that I was feeding my bloodlust with animals instead of humans.

"He inconspicuously approached me with his discovery, and we began to learn about each other. Soon after, the British military gained intelligence that key German leaders were planning a rendezvous in an occupied Belgian village. Taking out these leaders was to be Alucard's first mission. He was to covertly enter the village with a specialized force. Without revealing my secret, VanHelsing arranged for me to be a part of this force. Officially, I was being brought along to care for any soldiers that became injured, but private meetings with VanHelsing, Alucard, the General and myself soon revealed that my stealth and strength would be integral to the operation.

"Alucard and I spent much time together in the weeks leading up to the operation, planning. But he remained aloof, distant from the intense discussions around him. I knew that VanHelsing had debriefed him on what he'd learned about me, but Alucard made no effort to befriend me, a fellow vampire; he only stood back with his sharp eyes often cast on me as he formulated his unknown judgments. I threw myself into the mission and didn't take the time to worry about what those judgments may be."

Rosalie and Jasper listened with their honey-eyes opened wide. They wondered why Carlisle had never before shared this most interesting bit of his history. They were about to find out.

"Plans went awry," Carlisle continues. "The Germans had planted the intelligence. They had their own spies and had learned that the English were preparing some sort of secret weapon to carry out pinpoint attacks. They had set us up to draw that weapon out. They let us make it all the way to the center of the village before they caught us off guard with an ambush. Mauser semiautomatics fired into us and before we could fire back with our Lee Enfields, Alucard was shot several times in the chest and fell to the ground.

"The rest of us took cover as best we could and began our defense, but when I alone moved forward, bullets thudding into, but not damaging my marble-like flesh, I stepped on another one of their traps – a landmine. I was thrown back and one of my legs was blasted clean off and went flying several feet away from me. With both me and Alucard temporarily out of the fight, the Germans had the time they needed to finish off every last one of our human compatriots. Every brave, fine soldier with us was killed.

"Alucard healed himself and didn't hesitate to surprise the retreating enemy soldiers with his own ambush. He'd been equipped with the latest machine gun weaponry, which would have required at least two mortals plus a sturdy stand to man, but Alucard could handle the machinery alone. But even the latest design in machine guns at the time only allowed for an inaccurate spray of bullets. He needed my help. Before I could get my leg fully reattached to aid my fellow soldier, a group of poverty stricken children approached me. They were dirty and gaunt and looked as if they hadn't eaten in weeks. Their eyes were sunken and hollow, and when they looked at me, I saw a hunger raging in their eyes. I was at once furious with German soldiers who had commandeered the village. They only cared about conquest and war. They weren't taking care of the people. Their children.

"The filthy youths reached out to me. They wanted help and I wanted to give it to them. But before I could reach out to so much as wipe the grime from their faces, the head of the child closest to me exploded. Then the same thing happened to another child and another. I turned to where the shots were coming from and saw Alucard standing there. His red eyes glowed and his mouth was spread wide in a maniacal grin. He'd dispensed with his attackers and then pulled his rifle out for more precise aim at the children. He was laughing! He killed children. Children! In cold blood. For sport! And he was laughing!"

Carlisle's distress is rising to peak levels and Jasper is shooting him with blasts of tranquility. Carlisle stays silent and clenches his jaw, regaining control. After a few moments, he continues in a low, hushed voice. "After that, the secret missions were indefinitely suspended. I requested to be stationed with our troops in France and never saw Alucard again…until he showed up here.

"So you understand now that his cruelty knows no bounds. He has virtually no moral compass; his only guide is what his master tells him is allowable. If he gets voted off this island, and she stays, there's no telling what he's capable of. I don't know which one of you will be leaving tonight, but whoever it is, you need to be prepared. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a swim."

* * *

Edward has become irritated by thoughts that keep floating in and out of Alice's mind. He knows that she's consciously decided not to bring these thoughts up for discussion, but he finds the fact that she's had them at all thoroughly vexing, especially because this isn't the first time.

"Alice, for God's sake – it was an _accident_!" he finally blurts out in frustration when she thinks about it again.

Alice is provokingly calm in her sage response. "Are there such things as accidents, Edward? Or are _accidents_ actually the result of a suppressed desire? Freud says-"

"Freud was a drug addict and a fraud," Edward snaps back.

"That doesn't mean his theories aren't valid," Alice defends.

During this exchange, Emmett demonstrates very un-Emmett-like behavior and wisely keeps his mouth shut and stays out of it. Edward doesn't understand where this good judgment is coming from, but he's thankful for the reprieve from his brother's sophomoric sense of humor.

"Look, Edward," Alice continues. "I'm not mad. We can talk about this like rational, mature vampires. I've seen the way you look at Jasper sometimes. It's perfectly natural for you to be curious--"

"I AM NOT GAY FOR JASPER!" Edward shouts.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Alice begins complaisantly, but Edward interrupts through gritted teeth.

"I didn't _say_ there was anything wrong with it. I'm just _not_, okay? Can we drop it now?"

"Fine," Alice says, shrugging her shoulders amicably (if a bit doubtfully).

"Fine," Edward repeats in exasperation, glad to have that over with.

Emmett walks out onto the beach and stands with his beefy pecks bared and his arms spread out wide, soaking the sun. "Hey, Alice?" he calls lazily.

"Yeah?" she answers.

"I'm gonna lie down out here for a while. I know I'm not as pretty as Jasper, but…could you make sure Edward doesn't try to sit on my face or anything?"

Alice chokes back a giggle as Edward dejectedly stalks off into the forest, a low growl simmering at the back of his throat.

* * *

At Camp Hellsing, the crew is relaxing in the cool shade just outside the entrance of their cave, making a concerted effort to discuss anything but Alucard's squeal. As Seras lowers the red, wooden bat/man idol into a hollowed tree trunk to hide it from view, she artlessly comments on the silliness of the high pitched chittering of the island's indigent monkeys, drawing a severe sideways glance from Alucard. Integra skillfully steers the conversation in a decidedly different direction.

Now they are mostly talking about food. Food and blood – what they miss the most and what is the first thing they are going to eat (or kill as the case may be) when they get home. The rice and bagged corpuscles are getting old, and they long for something more. Immediately after Walter finishes describing his perfect sandwich, a distinct crunching noise rings out from behind the camera. That crunch is followed by several quieter, muffled crunches in quick succession.

"Are you…?" Integra asks as she ravenously eyeballs the cameraman. "Are you eating something?"

The cameraman leans away from the camera and says, "Uh, yeah."

Integra had been sitting on a large rock and she catapults herself to standing and demands, "What do you have?"

"Little Debbie Nutty Bar," the cameraman mumbles through his full mouth.

"What's a nutty bar?" Integra asks.

"I dunno," he shrugs, "crispy wafers…peanut butter…chocolate."

Integra's mouth starts watering at peanut butter. She begins openly drooling at chocolate.

"Give me one," she insists in a dangerous voice, holding one hand out for it while she wipes her mouth with the other.

"Look lady, we been through this already. Part a' the scenery, right?" the cameraman says as he gestures at the surroundings with his nutty-bar-holding hand.

"_Scenery_," Integra hisses through a clenched and salivating mouth, "does not crunch wafers or flaunt peanut butter and chocolate in front of starving women. Now hand it over tubby--"

"Sir," Walter interrupts with a calming hand on his boss's arm. "I'm sure I needn't remind you that the consumption of any unauthorized foodstuffs would constitute a forfeiture of our contract with CBS."

Integra angrily shrugs his hand off of her arm and glares at the cameraman. She knows Walter's right and she's bitterly resolving herself to no peanut butter today. When she's regained enough control to speak again, she says threateningly to the cameraman as she gestures to his offending Little Debbie snack, "I suggest you take _that_ far away from here before I give clearance for _you_ to become unauthorized foodstuffs for one of my vampires."

Integra's hardened, steely gaze tells the cameraman that she's not kidding, and when Alucard teasingly clicks his pointed teeth together and emits a low, menacing chuckle, he clicks off his equipment and stumbles expeditiously into the forest as if he can't get away fast enough.

As he retreats, Integra mutters, "Someone ought to teach that heathen some manners."

"Is that an order, master?" Alucard asks hungrily as his blood red eyes stare toward where the cameraman has disappeared.

* * *

With less than an hour left before they must leave for Tribal Council, Jasper and Rosalie find themselves alone, floating in the ocean. Carlisle has just left them to go for a brief walk along the beach to '_clear his head_,' as he had explained it.

"This totally sucks," Rosalie exhales aloud in frustration. "I've spent all afternoon trying to talk to him about the vote tonight, but all he says is to not waste our last hours together in paranoia, that he'll make his decision when the time comes and to not worry about it until then," she complains. Then she looks straight into Jasper's face and her expression changes, softens. As her liquid butterscotch eyes bore into him, Jasper feels true vulnerability from her for the first time since arriving in South America. "Jasper, tell me the truth – he's already decided that it's me tonight, hasn't he? I'd rather just know - please tell me," she pleads.

Jasper, with all his sensibilities to the emotions of others, is not equipped to play the hard ass. He's going to be up front with her. It's all he really knows how to do. "Honestly, Rose, he hasn't said a word to me. I'm on just as many pins and needles as you."

Rose breathes out a relieved, but still sad sigh. "So our fate is in his hands," she murmurs.

"Guess so," Jasper answers, treading water.

Rosalie's slender, alabaster arms undulate back and forth in the crystal clear ocean and her sharp mind ticks. The sentiments cascading off of her mutate to something other than despair when she says, "So, we – the two of us – are dependent on the decision of one. That's funny, isn't it?" she says ironically.

"How so?" Jasper asks. His hackles are up because he can tell that his sexy sister is up to something.

"Well, the vote's going to come down two to one," she says. "We can't control his _one_ vote, but we can control our _two_ votes," she says and gives Jasper a hard, meaningful look.

Her meaning settles in and Jasper responds in a low, reluctant murmur, "Fuuuck Rosalie…no way."

"Well, I guess if you'd rather let him decide everything for you, then that's your choice. But I'd rather keep the control with us. I'm voting for Carlisle tonight. Care to join me?" she asks with an enticing wink. Then she dives into the crystal waves for one last, graceful swim before the vote.

* * *

Jasper fights with himself all the way to tribal. He doesn't trust Rosalie one iota, but she was completely correct in her logic. Why should he leave his fate in Carlisle's hands? Then again, was Rosalie just messing with him? Was she simply trying to divert Jasper's vote from herself?

All Jasper feels from Rosalie on the way to the main beach is a cautious confidence. That could mean anything. He hones in on Carlisle's feelings, but they are wavering, so he tries to read between the lines of his cryptic answers to Jeff's questions at Tribal, but nothing is definitive.

They cast their votes and Jeff sits down comfortably on his stump with the urn in his lap and pulls out the first card. "First vote, Carlisle," he says.

Carlisle's eyebrows pull together. He didn't expect that.

Jeff pulls out another card, unfolds it and looks at it.

All three vampires stare intently at him, not daring to move a muscle.

Jeff raises his eyes above the card to look at them and says, "Third person voted out of Survivor: Vampire Island - Carlisle. No need to read the third vote. Carlisle, bring me your torch."

Carlisle carries his torch to Jeff and the Survivor host snuffs it, saying grimly, "The tribe has spoken."

Before walking away, Carlisle turns to Jasper and Rosalie. With a fatherly wink he says, "Perhaps this is for the best," and Jasper feels a sense of peace floating over from him. He means it.

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**Author's Note:**

Reader voting begins next chapter! Woo-hoo!!! At this point I plan to handle voting via a poll on my profile page. To test out this poll concept, I've set up a meaningless poll on my profile that relates to this chapter. Please stop by to vote so I can make sure this is going to work. Oh, and just so you know - word on the street is that alliances have already started forming amongst the readers, so watch your backs! You've been warned.

Here are my "Thank yous guys" for this chapter: SystemAurora for helping me figure out the timing of Carlisle and Alucard's history and for answering other miscellaneous questions; Master of the Boot for all his help with the Carlisle/Alucard history and WWI background. Also for unwittingly educating me on Freud; and EZB for every last detail of the gorgeous immunity idol. Told you he was highly imaginative!

So, are any of you currently watching the real Survivor? If you are, please let me know and I will totally PM you about it on Friday - because this is the BEST season e-ver! And even though Tyson was my fav, it was so amazing the way they blindsided him. It's the kind of thing they always talk about doing, but then they never do, but this time they did!!! It was so great! But I'm going to miss Tyson. That boy really knew how to make me laugh.


	6. in which I hope you'll forgive me

**Author's Note:**

You guys are going to laugh SO HARD when I tell you this. Do you remember in the last chapter when I told you that in the next chapter we'd start reader voting? Yeah? Well this would be that next chapter, wouldn't it? Well, ya see...the thing is...I was writing, and then I was writing some more, and then, well, at some point I realized that the chapter was headed towards getting wa-a-a-ay too long, and so...and so -- okay, this is where it gets _really_ funny -- we're not going to get to reader voting this chapter. It will start next chapter – Chapter 7. Isn't that hilarious?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahaha ehe-ehe-ehe-eh......ehe......ehe......eh..................you're not laughing. And you're looking at me like this o_O

Look, I _know_ - it's a really crappy thing for me to do. But please understand that I did it for your own good, children. You see, this way, not only did I save you from going cross-eyed, but I also got you an update sooner. So, everyone wins, right? And you'll still get a chance for input into the story with a brand new poll that I'll tell you about in the End Notes.

So.........forgive me? (I'm batting some serious eyelash here boys and girls.)

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Chapter 5

The chapter in which I hope you'll forgive me

The Hellsing cave is pitch black. Muffled sounds of the island's chirping nightlife float in through the cave's mouth and are occasionally broken by Walter's rhythmic, raspy breathing. A round circle of soft, silver light suddenly bobs onto the cave's rough walls. The long, thin beam that trails the circle moves around the stone room and slams onto the wooden coffins. The beam continues searching and lands on a pale, aristocratic face surrounded by long sheaths of blonde hair.

Integra's eyelids scrunch at the sudden light and she cracks her eyelids, peering into the harsh brightness. Her hand fumbles around next to her and she pulls up a pair of round spectacles and jams them onto her face. The light reflects off them, turning them into two, blinding white orbs as she stands up.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demands harshly of the light.

A loud pig-like snort erupts to Integra's left, and then Walter – emitter of the snort – pushes himself to sitting and asks in bewilderment, "Wh-wh-what's going on?"

"Relax, guys," whispers a familiar voice. It's Probst. "This is your wake-up call. Time for you to get to the main beach. The Cullens are already on their way."

"Cullens…?" Walter murmurs. The word sounds vaguely familiar to him, but he can't quite place it. He's still waiting for the majority of his brain cells to snap awake.

Before that happens, Integra is already up and knocking on the coffins. Alucard sits up, adjusts the cravat at his neck and steps out of the coffin, ready for action. But Seras sits up slowly and rubs her puffy eyes. She squeaks out a yawn and then stretches her arms with her fingers splaying out like claws and her mouth opens into an even wider yawn, exposing her sharp, feline teeth. She's like a soft, fluffy kitten waking up from its nap, and all three of her tribemates take a moment to tilt their heads and sigh at their adorable Miss Victoria.

"What?" she asks in sleepy confusion when she sees the odd way they are looking at her.

No one answers. Instead, Jeff beams the light around the carved out rock and asks, "Where's your cameraman?"

The four members of the Hellsing Organization glance around at each other in some confusion. Integra is the first to speak.

"I don't remember seeing him come in last night – do you?" she asks the others. Everyone shakes their heads in the negative. "Hmm," she ponders, "the last time I remember seeing him was after the challenge. We were back here, relaxing and talking about…talking about food and…" Her voice trails off and she flicks her eyes onto Alucard. The last time she saw the cameraman, he was disappearing into the forest and her lead vampire was hungrily watching him as if he were lying on a golden platter with a large apple in his mouth. Her attention snaps back to Probst and she says decisively, "We haven't seen him, and we have no idea where he is. I suggest you take this up with your producers."

Jeff's used to being the one to give the orders around here, but the short man doesn't consider contradicting Sir Hellsing for a moment. "Yes, uh, yes, I'll do that."

* * *

Jeff and Tribe Hellsing arrive at the main beach where the Cullens are already waiting for them. Off to the far right, a large area has been fenced in. Inside the fence are all manner of farm animals – pigs, goats, cows, sheep, even chickens. All the contestants warily eye the pen, wondering what in the hell this challenge is going to entail.

Jeff greets them with a devilish sparkle in his dark brown eyes. "Good morning. Want to know what you're doing here?" he asks rhetorically. "I just thought you might feel like a little change of wardrobe." He bends down and pulls a pile of fresh, new, red buffs from the basket at his feet. "No more Tribe Esme, no more Tribe Carlisle – fitting since the two namesakes are no longer with us," he explains, and the five remaining Cullens wince at the mention of their parents.

"And no more Tribe Hellsing," he continues. "We now only have Tribe Asema, named after the vampires of South American folklore. According to legend, the asema took the form of an elderly man or woman during the daylight, but at night it had the ability to transform into a vampire by taking off its skin and becoming a ball of blue light. In that form, it is said that the asema flew through the air, entered houses in the village, and sucked the blood of its victims."(1)

The contestants simply stand still and stare dumbly at Jeff with somewhat bewildered expressions, so Jeff makes it easier for them and says in a tone that sounds very much like that of a teacher talking to a group of kindergartners, "Guys, your merging into one tribe."

Rosalie and Alice jump up and "_Squee!_" at the exact same moment and then zip past each other as they cross tribe lines to jump on their respective mates. Emmett scoops Rosalie up bridal style and they unabashedly open wide in a passionate kiss in front of everyone. Jasper and Alice are only slightly more subtle. She wraps her tiny legs around his narrow waist and winds her arms around his neck while she peppers baby kisses all over his face and neck, and Jasper laughs.

Jeff chuckles at the girls' reactions as he hands out the new buffs and says, "Tribe Asema will fittingly have blood red buffs. Next order of business – where are you going to live? You can choose between any of the three occupied beaches. I'll give you a few minutes to discuss and decide."

The boys set the girls gently down in the sand and all nine remaining Survivors regard each other silently. It finally hits them that they're all going to be living together. _All_ of them. Together. Integra wears a stern, disapproving expression. She's put off by the uncouth behavior the two Cullen girls just displayed. Walter purses his lips in a mild smile and thinks sardonically, _oh wonderful, another group of individuals to take care of_. Seras smiles shyly at the Cullens. They seem like a lot of fun – they're physically her same demographic, and she hasn't hung out with a group of kids her age for a very long time. Alucard sneers at the group of Americans and wonders how long it will take before he has them all crying for mommy and daddy.

"What kind of shelter does everyone have?" Integra asks, taking a logical approach for resolving their housing issue. "We have a natural cave. It's comfortable for the four of us, but it might be a bit cramped for nine."

Alice shrugs and says, "We have plenty of room on the second story."

"Second story?" the six members of the tribes formerly known as Carlisle and Hellsing gasp.

Then a proud grin spreads over Jasper's face and he lays an arm over Alice's shoulder, pulling her to him and says, "Pack up people. We're going to camp Esme."

"We'll get your stuff moved to the new camp," Jeff explains. "We've got some other business to take care of first. In keeping with Survivor tradition, you get to celebrate the merge with a feast." He gestures toward the pen of livestock and says, "Dig in."

Eight of the nine contestants again find themselves staring dumbly at Jeff in disbelief. But there is no need to tell Alucard twice. He is already moving toward the pen. "You'd better hurry," Jeff says to the others. "I don't expect Alucard's going to leave any leftovers."

The six other vampires move toward the pen, some faster than others, while Integra and Walter hang back and exchange horrified looks.

"I suppose we could catch a chicken and cook it back at camp?" Walter offers doubtfully.

The pained groaning of a cow screeches through the air as Alucard selects his first victim. The rest of the animals stampede to the opposite corner and cram together, shivering, for protection. It will do them no good, because five more vampires are upon them, knife-like teeth bared as the first drops of venom begin pooling in their mouths. Warm blood. Fresh corpuscles, straight from the source. It calls to them, to their baser instincts, and all resemblance to humans is erased as they stealthily crawl over the fence like hungry, virulent reptiles with a solitary focus - the kill.

Terrified squeals, high-pitched bleats and panicked squawks fill the night as the ravenous creatures of the night descend upon their prey. It's a hideous chorus of fear and death, and underlying everything is the sound that Integra and Walter are trying to block out most of all - the slurping, the sound of the mouths of their comrades attached to the animals they are torturing as they suck the life from them.

Walter gulps and reverses his earlier suggestion. "Perhaps approaching the pen for a chicken just now isn't the best of ideas."

"Don't worry," Jeff, the consummate professional, says easily. "We didn't forget about you two." He produces from God knows where two plates covered with rounded, silver domes. "Pour vous," he says to Walter, handing him a covered plate. "Et la," he says to Integra as he gives her the other.

Walter pulls the cover off of his plate and exclaims, "Is this…? Oh, I can't believe it!" The elderly butler is clearly delighted as he pulls out an enormous liverwurst, onion and cream cheese sandwich.(2) Integra eagerly pulls of the lid from her plate and barely stops herself from squeeing when she sees the stack of individually wrapped Little Debbie Nutty Bars.

The two humans dig into their delicacies and munch happily while they watch the carnage in the pen. That's when they notice that one member of their group is decidedly _not_ having a good time. A shadowy figure stands slump shouldered off to the side of the pen. The figure has a fuzzy tuft of hair spraying off the top of its head and a large mass protruding from its chesticular region. Seras. She'd walked with the other vampires over to the pen, drawn by the temptation of warm, pulsating blood., but once she'd locked her bright, blue eyes on the dark, gentle eyes of one of the sheep, she'd stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't do it. She never could.

Poor Seras stands uncomfortably to the side while the others feed. She's felt vaguely hungry ever since coming to the island, but now, with tantalizing food sources bursting all around her, that hunger is raging. Still, she can't do it. Those eyes had been too warm, too kind.

"Alucard!" Integra's commanding voice rings out.

Alucard tears his lips from the pig he's been draining and turns to his master. The thick, crimson liquid gushes out of the animal as its racing heart continues pumping, but Alucard gives the wasted spillage only a second's regret. Sir Integra has called.

"Alucard, take care of Seras," she orders.

He looks toward his fledgling, standing off to the side with a pathetic, tortured look about her. When is she ever going to learn to fully embrace this new _life_ he's given her? She needs to eat something. For the sake of Team Hellsing, she needs to be at her best. He scans the pen of terrorized animals and spots a soft, grey rabbit at the edge of the frey. Curiously, this – the smallest of all creatures here – doesn't appear frightened in the least. It's merely watching from the sidelines, enjoying the show.

The rabbit's nonchalance both impresses Alucard and pisses him off. What a brave and sadistic little thing to enjoy the sight of his four legged comrades being ripped limb from limb. What a stupid and arrogant little thing to sit so calmly by while surrounded by a pack of vicious monsters. The fluffy, little bunny strikes Alucard as an appropriate snack for his fluffy, little Seras. Surely she won't object to taking the life of a mere rodent.

In normal circumstances, the fur ball's lack of fear would be completely justifiable: not only is it too small to attract attention, its strong hind legs can easily push it to safety outside the fence within a millisecond of one of the vampires turning its ravenous eyes upon it. But these aren't normal circumstances. And these aren't normal vampires - at least the one currently observing the rabbit isn't. _This_ vampire can teleport.

The critter's rabbitty senses kick in and it locks eyes with those of its predator. One bloodied corner of Alucard's mouth turns up in a wicked grin. He fakes a step forward, inciting the rabbit's reflexes. It turns and hurtles under the fence, disappearing into the cover of the forest where it's safe. Or so it thought. Its little bunny heart beats triple time as it flees into the brush. It beats quadruple time when the stuff of nightmares appears inexplicably in front of it and scoops him up with his long fingered claws.

Alucard smiles as he holds the frightened animal to his chest and strokes its soft fur. The rabbit stares wide-eyed up to him, and the gentleness of the helpless creature, combined with the warmth of its tiny heart beating against him, affects Alucard more than he'd ever admit.

"Pretty baby," he murmurs quietly. "You deserve a name, don't you? I think I shall call you......_dinner_."

Alucard's eyes brighten to a molten glow and his lips stretch over his pointed teeth. His low, dark chuckle is muffled when he pushes the rabbit's head to the side and sinks his teeth through the soft fur. His razor teeth pierce the skin and burst the carotid artery, allowing the rich redness to spurt into his mouth. Alucard has never tasted rabbit blood before. It isn't bad, tastes rather like chicken. But this is not his treat to enjoy. He carries the now quivering rabbit over to Seras and thrusts it into her unwilling hands.

"Happy birthday," he says, and before Seras can protest, he makes off to the pen.

Seras stares at the bleeding animal in her hands. The open blood in such close proximity is at once revolting and intoxicating. The creature is injured. Surely it's going to die anyway._ Would it not be more of a sin to let the loss of this life be in vain? _she wonders. She clamps her eyes shut and lets her long, pointed, pink tongue fall out of her mouth. Her serpent-like organ finds its way to the wound and licks the thick, salty elixir. Her tongue tingles. This is what her body needs, what it craves.

The rabbit emits a strangled gurgle and Seras's eyes fly open. She watches the creature's chest surge as its body struggles to keep working, to keep living. Seras gasps. She can't do this. She never can. The creature's long, hind feet suddenly kick out and it squirms. It's trying to make a break for it. After all of this, it's still fighting, and Seras realizes that it has a chance. She glances around and sees that no one is paying attention to her. The other vampires are all still busy attacking, and Integra and Walter, having given themselves over to the ecstasies of processed foods, are giggling at each other as they extend arms to each other's mouths, feeding each other disgusting bits of whatever it is they're eating.

With her back turned to everyone else, Seras lowers herself to the ground and sets the bunny down. At first it doesn't move. Seras hopes because it's too stunned, not too injured. She gives it a pat on the bottom and some encouraging words, and then the bunny takes off into the trees. Seras then stands up and wipes her mouth, giving a good show of having devoured the entire thing; not that anyone's giving her a thought.

* * *

The sun rises over the beach at Camp Asema, where the glutted Survivors are now playing nicey nice. The Hellsings were woken up in the middle of the night and could really use more sleep, but with the Cullens outnumbering them five to four, there's not a chance they're going to miss out on an opportunity to interact with their opponents in order to identify the weak link. Even Alucard understands the need to stay out of his coffin for a while. But he hangs back, reticent, and observes as the rest of his alliance infiltrates the enemy.

Integra and Walter immediately join Jasper, Emmett and Edward in assessing what work needs to be done around camp. It's a bizarre scenario that Integra never thought she'd find herself in. Ever since she was a young girl, she's been working to rid the world of the very type of creatures she is now trying to get along with. The Cullens are friendly and playful and human-like in many ways, but they _are _vampires. She can't completely lose sight of that. But they've also adopted a benevolent life style and they're outside of her jurisdiction, anyhow, so it's been a small matter for her to set that truth aside for the time being. Right now, she's having more of a problem holding back from simply taking charge and handing out orders. It's difficult for Walter to watch his boss emasculated so, but they've entered the social part of the game, and they've got to play it just right.

Meanwhile, Seras joins Alice and Rosalie who've decided to weave friendship bracelets out of wildflowers to celebrate the merge. It's no effort at all for Seras to kibitz with the girls. She's having the time of her life. Alice is so fun and spunky, and even Rosalie is being congenial, easing Seras' prior trepidation about her, rather like a spider sitting quietly while it lets the fly tangle itself in its web. Rosalie sees no reason to put up a fuss about the young vampiress; she'll get hers at the very next tribal council.

The girls' conversation inevitably turns to fashion and Seras is glad of it. She's been admiring the Cullen sisters' style, most especially that of the small, spikey haired Alice, and hopes to get some tips. She feels like she's been stuck in a fashion rut, wearing the same police girl outfit day in and out.

"I've been thinking about trying to change up my look a bit," she admits.

"Really?" Alice squeaks, delighted at the prospect of a makeover.

"Uh huh," Seras replies, eagerly shaking her head.

Rosalie's mouth widens in a mildly triumphant smile. She has some very specific ideas about how to change Seras's look. Especially since that popped button at the top of her blouse has never been replaced.

"All you need is a really good bra, sweetie," Rosalie purrs.

"Oh," Seras responds with her eyes downcast, clearly chagrined. She's always been self conscious about her breast size. Plus, there were no lingerie shops on this uninhabited island last time she checked.

But Rosalie is not dissuaded from her mission. She looks conspiratorially at Seras and says "I have an idea. You've still got your old tribe buff, right?"

"Yep, right here, Seras says and holds up her wrist with the black fabric wrapped around it."

"Me, too." Rosalie smiles wide and lifts up her forearm with green fabric twisted around it.

"Me, three!" Alice giggles and flicks her orange wrist up like Wonder Woman.

Rosalie presses her wrist to Alice's and pulls Seras' along with it and says, "Wonder Buff powers, activate!"

The three pretty girls laugh and then Rosalie turns to Seras and says point blank, "Take your shirt off."

"What?" Seras gasps and takes a step back, instinctively crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, _now_ you're modest?" Rosalie teases with just the slightest hint of bitterness. "Fine, let's go into the forest."

Seras is apprehensive, but Alice spins her around toward the trees, and Rosalie takes her hand and pulls her. Just like that, Seras suddenly finds herself heading into the forest with two complete strangers who appear to be dead set on taking her shirt off.

When they are in far enough to be out of anyone else's vision and they've managed to ditch the cameraman, Rosalie turns to Seras and orders, "Okay, off with it."

"I…uh…I d-don't know," Seras stammers, keeping her hands protectively over her chest.

Rosalie plasters on a sticky sweet smile and coaxes, "C'mon…no need to be shy – we're all girls here."

"I s'pose..." Seras murmurs uncertainly.

Alice molds her tiny hands over Seras' and says soothingly and sincerely, "Honey, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, okay? But if you don't remove your shirt, we're not going to be able to help you."

"Yes, yes," of course, Seras says, shaking her messy, blond ponytail and feeling a bit stupid. She lowers her hands to the first button and begins fumbling with it until it's undone.

Rosalie, so close to seeing her plan come to fruition, has lost patience. "Here, give me your buff," she demands of Seras and pulls one hand away to untwist the fabric off her wrist. "Alice, finish unbuttoning her shirt."

Alice's delicate hands work quickly through the buttons and Seras' shirt falls open just as Rosalie frees the black buff. Alice grasps onto the collar of Seras' shirt and slides it over her pale shoulders while looking Hellsing's youngest vamp straight in the eye and smiling reassuringly. Seras accepts Alice's reassurances and clenches her fingers into balls as she feels the last remnants of her shirt leave her. She purses her lips together in a forced, tight smile and keeps her hands to her sides. She refuses to act like a sheltered schoolgirl again. She's a grown woman for goodness sakes; this is not a big deal.

Alice stands back and looks on a completely topless Seras for the first time. "Oh my," she whispers in a hushed, awed voice. She doesn't want to make Seras feel awkward by staring, but she can't help it. They're… they're…they're fantastic!

"So remarkably buoyant…I mean, for the sheer mass…" Rosalie chimes in, equally transfixed. "And they're real?" she asks incredulously.

Seras is about to answer in the affirmative, but she's rendered utterly mute when Alice reaches her small, elegant hands out and cups them around the supple underside of either breast. Seras goes rigid at the touch of the female vamp's icy fingers, but Alice doesn't seem to notice; she's mesmerized by this – ahem, _these_ rather – wonders of creation, especially when her own are more like swollen mosquito bites.

"Alice!" Rosalie admonishes.

Alice recollects herself and immediately drops her hands, leaving the oversized mammaries to bounce with the sudden loss of support.

"Um, yep, they're real," Alice says, trying to play it cool...and failing.

"Sheesh!" Rosalie chides. "You're as bad as Emmett." Seras merely lets out a nervous sort of giggle and Rosalie gets back to business. "Okay, raise your arms," she orders Seras, who readily complies. After all, what's there to worry about - it can't possibly get any more embarrassing than Alice feeling her up. Rosalie slips the black tube of elasticized fabric down Seras' arms and pulls down on the sides, stretching the fabric over her ample bosom. As she does so, she declares with a triumphant gloat, "We are reining these puppies in!"

Almost immediately, a small tear begins to form at the top of the overtaxed buff.

"Shit!" Rosalie exclaims and whips the green buff off of her wrist and quickly pulls it down Seras' arms and over the black buff, giving it more support. "There," Rosalie says with a satisfied sigh of relief, smoothing down the buffs as she examines her handiwork. Seras is now bound down to at least an E cup.

Just then, the two buffs around her start making threatening noises, like the sound of threads splitting.

"Alice, quick!" Rosalie shouts. "We need yours too! Quick, quick quick!"

Alice squeaks and pulls the buff from her wrist while Seras dutifully throws both arms back up into the air. Rosalie urgently snatches the buff from Alice and yanks it down over the other two. Rosalie keeps her hands on Seras' sides with her eyes intently focused on Seras's bound breasts, making sure the contraption is going to stay together this time. After several minutes and no noises, she pats Seras' waist and says, "Looks like we're in business."

Alice smiles on Seras' new, smoother look. She likes the way the black and green peek out under the orange in the trendy layered fashion, but then her smile slowly fades and a tiny little crinkle forms between her eyebrows. Rosalie doesn't like this apparent disapproval of her work.

"What?" she asks challengingly.

"Oh, well, this looks great. It really does, but think how amazing it would be with the black on top and the orange and green showing underneath!" Alice gushes excitedly in a wave of inspiration.

Rosalie narrows her eyes and a quiet, nevertheless threatening growl rolls out from between her full, pink lips.

"Oh, but this is good, too," Alice quickly puts in.

"Yes, yes, this is great!" Seras adds, not wanting to piss of her frightening new BFF.

Alice helps Seras get her shirt back on, but instead of buttoning it, they leave it open and Alice ties the corners into knots, completing the Hellsing vampire's fresh, new look.

"You look great!" Alice cheers.

"Really?" Seras asks, pleased at the approval. "Er, do you think we can do anything about this hair?"

Alice looks critically at the messy ponytail and fountains of blond hair falling around Seras' face. "Nope, it's perfect," she pronounces happily. Seras giggles and Alice adds, "Now, as for your boss – I'd love to get a hold of _those_ pallid strings of lackluster nothingness."

"Fat chance of that," Seras tells her with a laugh. But a worried cloud soon crosses her face now that she's thinking about the Hellsing leader. "She's probably wondering where I am."

"C'mon," Alice chirps, grabbing her hand and starting to lead her out of the forest.

Alucard stands at the edge of the trees and watches the three chummy girls as they emerge. Alice and Seras are skipping and giggling, and Rosalie struts out coolly behind them. She glances in Alucard's direction, but her eyes don't linger, as if his presence is nothing to her. She has very subtly, but very definitely dismissed him. What a brave little thing to snub the king of vampires. What a stupid and arrogant little thing to think she can possibly escape his wrath.

Alucard decides to worry about her later and turns his attention back to the others. Walter is out in a rowboat, fishing with Emmett and Jasper. Walter has admittedly not done a lot of fishing in his lifetime, and he's definitely never come close to fishing like this before. It's really more like a game of slimy catch as Jasper and Emmett dive below the surface and sporadically re-emerge to toss their prizes to Walter, who grabs them and throws them into the bottom of the boat where they wriggle and gasp. Quite the pile is building up and Walter has begun surreptitiously releasing the fish one by one over the side. He and Integra couldn't possibly eat that much under normal circumstances, let alone when they're still stuffed with liverwurst and nutty bars. This excursion is primarily an exercise in entertainment and bonding.

Emmett's darks head pops above the surface a good distance away, further than where he's thrown from before. "I'm goin' for three, grandpa," he calls. Walter doesn't know what he's talking about, because Emmett only tosses him one fish, as usual.

Jasper emerges directly next to the boat and hangs his lanky arms off the side. Up close and with the sun sparkling off of his ivory skin, Walter notices that this young man's perfection is marred by a series of tiny scars, barely noticeable to the human eye. This boy has been through something in his past. Something violent and horrible.

"Have we gotten enough?" Jasper asks kindly, respectfully.

"Oh yes, plenty," Walter answers amiably. He finds this Jasper to be a very polite fellow. And he emits an aura of trustworthiness. When he's near, Walter feels steady and calm, as if he'd follow Jasper to the ends of the earth. As a result, Walter doesn't trust him a lick.

Alucard is distracted from the fishermen by a loud, snapping noise down the beach. Integra and Edward are busting up trees and branches for firewood.

Integra acknowledges to herself that the Cullen boy is very good looking, but such things carry little to no weight with her. She's more concerned with substance. So far Edward has revealed himself to be intelligent, cultured, and a willing worker. He's also very kind. Plus, he's terribly good looking. Integra berates herself internally for thinking it a second time and Edward chuckles. The chuckle reminds her that he can read thoughts, so she searches for a more benign subject, such as…such as opera. Wagner, yes, that'll do.

Before she even speaks, Edward pre-empts her by saying disparagingly, "As long as we can omit any reference to the 'Ride of the Valkyries' when discussing Die Walküre."

Integra is surprised by his comment and retorts ironically, "Oh, yes, only his most recognizable work; it must really be awful."

Edward doesn't hesitate to respond. He's fielded this defense before. "Most recognized because of Elmer Fudd and a wabbit. And rabbit is the completely wrong animal, anyhow. With all those women screeching at the top of their lungs, they should have called it, "Mewing of the Cats in a Washing Machine on High Agitate.'"

Integra smiles despite herself. She's going to have to add good taste and a sense of humor to that list of Edward Cullen's positive attributes. "So you consider Wagner a complete waste, then?"

"Ah, no! I _love_ Wagner," Edward answers warmly with an enthusiasm seldom seen in the typically sedate vampire. "In one stroke, one tone poem, he ushered in the post-modern neo-classical sensibilities that have given us Schoenberg, Hindemith, Alban Berg and his evocative violin concerto...God!"

"How do you mean?" Integra asks, admiring his passion for the topic but feeling a little lost. She thought she knew Wagner, but Edward clearly has a more in-depth knowledge of the composer.

"The Leibestod," he answers with great reverence. His eyes take on a dreamy, far away look and Integra seizes the opportunity to prick his high floating bubble.

"Ah, so you prefer dying quail to mewing cats," she says lightly with her head averted toward her work and biting her lips together to hide her teasing smile. (3)

Edward snaps a shocked and offended gaze toward her. He may not see the smile on her elegant face, but he knows its there and his ever-serious countenance breaks into an easy smile. He likes this woman. She's intelligent and firm, and he sees now that she can be humorous…at his expense. She's challenging.

Edward doesn't have a lot of experience with women that can truly challenge him. Not even his beloved Bella. Although making their relationship work hasn't exactly been an easy road, Bella has never been the one to pose the challenges. She's always been the one to make his path smoother. She'd certainly never stand up to him like this on a subject in which he so clearly has the advantage. But Integra is willing to swipe at him with her refined claws, even when she knows she's outmatched, and Edward is surprised to find that he likes it.

Integra feels his dark amber eyes on her. She blushes and fumbles with the sticks she's trying to break and they fall to the ground in a bundle. She reaches down to pick them up, but Edward's hand is already there, and she accidentally brushes her wrist against his. Her flesh immediately tingles as if it's been burnt, but it somehow isn't painful. It's not unpleasant at all.

Edward intakes a sharp breath as he feels the warmth of her contact. They're eyes are automatically drawn to each other and they stare across the inches that separate them in a charged trance. Neither one of them makes a move to disengage, and they stay frozen, crouched on the beach, wrists delicately touching, eyes locked together in…in…in what exactly? Edward can't even begin to take in her thoughts, because he's too busy trying to manage his own.

Integra watches the flames flash across Edward's beautiful eyes and that flicker is enough to bring her back to her senses. She pulls her wrist away from Edward, scoops the branches and stands up in one swift motion. Edward rises more slowly, and when he does, his face is clouded with confusion and self reproach.

"I'm going…going to see if Jasper and Emmett need help with the fish," he says, uncharacteristically stumbling for words. He walks toward the ocean, peeling off his shirt, and gracefully disappears under the waves.

Integra stares after him, trying to bring her fluttering heart back under control. Her heart stops all together when a deep voice behind her chuckles darkly. Alucard. He observed the whole thing, and while Edward had been fighting his emotions, Alucard had been scanning them, using his mystical powers get a read on the boy.

"He likes human women," Alucard states matter-of-factly. Integra turns and eyes him cautiously, wondering where he's going with this. "His wife was a human when they met. It was a big turn on for him – the heat, the risk. But he went and turned her into an ice queen, just like the rest of them, and it appears our dear Edward is pining for a warm, soft touch. You need to exploit his desire, Sir Integra."

"Exploit!" Integra spits as if the word tastes bad in her mouth. "You are out of line, vampire, telling _me _what _I _need to do. And you are off base regarding his desire. We were merely having a conversation when I dropped these branches, and he helped me pick them up. End of story."

Alucard twists his mouth into a knowing smirk and raises a dubious eyebrow.

Integra shoves the branches into his arms and says, "Why don't you make yourself useful and get the hell away from me."

Alucard smiles and gives Iintegra a slight bow before carrying the branches to the pile at the center of the beach. Then he wipes his hands and moves on as he sees the opportunity to exploit his own Cullen. Rosalie has just wandered back into the forest. Alone.

Alucard follows Rosalie silently for a time. It seems as if she's merely come here to get away from everyone. He can clearly read on the girl that she has difficulty playing well with others.

It's only a short while before the Unstet senses the Nosferatu in her vicinity. She stops, turns, and looks Alucard point blank in the eye. "What do you want," she snaps irritably. He's interfering with her alone time.

"Just enjoying the scenery," he says with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows. Tramps like her always fall for such flatteries.

He needs to soften her up, so she'll let something slip in her subconscious, allowing him to pinpoint her weakness. Girls this tough always have a hidden shame, a dark secret that's just begging and screaming to be exposed. Begging and screaming – that's exactly what he wants to see this princess reduced to.

_What a letch_, Rosalie fumes. "Well, why don't you check out the scenery at the bottom of the ocean? I hear the coral's quite spectacular, what with all that _moving water_ cascading all around it. Allow me to give you a shove in the right direction."

This girl is rock solid. _Ooh-hoo-hoo, she must be hiding something good_. Alucard is practically giddy with anticipation. Where to start his investigation? At the change. Yes, there's never anything pleasant surrounding the circumstances under which a human was changed into a vampire. He's the only one he knows of that went willingly. Well, him and that boob Edward married.

"How long have you been in Carlisle's family?" he asks.

Rosalie studies him. She sees no harm in answering the question. "I've been with Carlisle and Esme ever since becoming a vampire."

"And when was that?"

Rosalie is finished with social hour. "None of your damn business," she snarls.

Hostility. Interesting. "Oh, was Carlisle the one who changed you, then?" Alucard asks.

Rosalie doesn't respond, but steps away.

Alucard can feel that he's getting closer to what he's looking for. The girl is flustered with trying to tamp down thoughts and images that she doesn't want resurrected.

"Now, why would Carlisle want to change a beautiful debutante like you?" he comments with false innocence.

Rosalie freezes and gasps. Alucard has hit the jackpot.

Rosalie's mind floods with images. Horrid, despicable, delicious images. Alcuard _sees_ her, spoiled, defiled, rotting in an alley like garbage. She's filled with the cum of not one, not two, but three? more? men. A sneer a mile long begins to creep across his face. Then he understands what happened – how Carlisle must have found her in this pitiable condition. How he must have thought he was doing the disgraced child a favor by bringing her over to the living death.

"Oh," Alucard exclaims evilly. "He saved you, did he? That sounds right. Just like him to gilt everything and refuse to see trash for what it is – trash. It was no accident that you ended up in that alley."

Rosalie's eyes flash with a sudden fear when Alucard says this. He knows.

"It's exactly what you deserved, isn't it?" he continues with a sneer. "A gang bang screw was all that you were really good for."

Rosalie is stunned by his words. They cut her deep. They go straight to her soft, vulnerable center. That center is the reason that everything built up around it is so hard, so impenetrable. It's what she's spent nearly a century viciously protecting. But Alucard has pierced through her shield and she can't move, can't react. She can only stand here numbly and listen while this man, this monster, tells her what she already knows.

Alucard senses her paralysis and grows bolder. He's going for the kill. He steps in closer so that she can feel his cruel breath tickle her forehead when he speaks. "It's what every part of you was designed for: those full, pouty lips; your round, exquisite backside; your sweet, sweet…" He lets his fingers finish his sentence and touches his fingertips outside the front of her miniscule bikini bottoms. She stiffens, but doesn't move and Alucard slowly strokes a straight, stimulating line over her. He moves his lips to her ear and tells her in a deep murmur, "Every beautiful orifice, my dear, was meant to be penetrated again and again and again until you're screaming and begging for it to stop. But you don't want it to stop. Not really. Because you're a pretty, little slut. Everybody's whore."

Something sparks in Rosalie at the last word and she clamps her iron hand on Alucard's wrist, yanking it up and off of her. Her entire face twists as she hisses fiercely, "Keep your fucking hands off of me or I will personally dismember you, organ by organ -" She has more to say, but her voice chokes off with the emotion.

Alucard would've preferred to have watched her dissolve into a pathetic, useless mass in the sand, but he's pleased with the force of her reaction. "Thanks for the tip," he says easily. "Wouldn't want to catch any diseases, now, would I? Guess I'd better wash this hand." He glances toward his hand and with an ironic sniff, he adds, "That Emmett's a brave man." Then he snaps his wrist out of her grip and saunters back toward the beach while she stares after him, fighting the rising panic that he's re-awakened.

A soaking wet Emmett comes bounding excitedly into the forest. "Hey, babe, you wouldn't believ-" He stops abruptly when he takes a good look at her. "Babe? You alright?"

Rosalie looks at him and tries to plaster on a smile, but fails. Emmett rushes over. He wraps his burly arms around her and then notices her glance in the direction of where he's just past Alucard.

"What'd he do?" Emmett demands. "I'll kick his ass!"

"No," Rosalie says calmly, running her hands appreciatively along Emmett's bulging biceps. She pulls him tightly to her and presses the side of her face into him, clamping her eyes shut and letting his strength seep into her, compensating for what she herself cannot produce at the moment. Emmett would love to smash that smug Nosferatu's face into the nearest tree, but he knows it's more important right now to stay here with his Rose, and he lets her stay silent while she clings to him. Emmett nourishes Rosalie, and when she's once again on solid ground, she growls with determination, "He's playing a psychological game. But he doesn't realize who he just fucked with."

"That's my girl," Emmett responds proudly as he kisses the top of her head.

.

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**Footnotes:**

(1) Source for information on the asema (South American vampires): answers. com

(2) Thanks to everyone who voted in my poll! Liverwurst, onion and cream cheese won with 83% of the vote.

(3) The bulk of Edward and Integra's discussion of the works of Richard Wagner was courtesy of brilliant fanfiction author, geophf, who has been very patient in the education of a rube like me. I know he doesn't like it when I call myself a rube, but since he's no longer allowed to read this story, I can say it as much as I please – rube, rube, rube!

.

**End Notes:**

While I wrote the bunny part, I was closely watched by a very special bunny named Fairfax. He's a member of a family of stuffed rabbits that are traveling the country to raise awareness for a disease known as Infantile Spasms that affects the beautiful baby niece of a fellow fanfiction author. If you'd like to learn more about this disease and perhaps get a bunny of your own, please go to www. marissasbunny .com (remove spaces). Right now they are having a Great Toy Giveaway at that site where you can pick up some Star Trek, Star Wars, etc. collectible type things for the cost of postage plus a few dollars. Also, if you go down a few posts (to the one titled, 'Fairfax Arrivals and Returns'), you can see a photo of my cutey McCute-cute real life bunny, Oreo, in a face-off with Fairfax.

Speaking of bunnies – that's the topic of the new poll at the top of my profile page! What do you think is the fate of the rabbit that Alucard bit and Seras spared – will he hop to the nearest tree and croak? Or will he become a ghoul? A vampire-rabbit, perhaps? Or will he power through, heal and go on to live a long, happy, mortal life? Vote now! (Well, after you leave a review, that is :)

My continued gratitude to Lucius, Alfred, Robin the Girl Wonder, and Ernie Z. Buttlicker (get cheeky with _me_, will you?) for so helpfully answering the questions I've fired at you over the past couple of weeks. And also to Weak Chan for being my grammar Nazi. You are all such lovely people – more lovely than I deserve.

And welcome back to Angel!!! I missed you madly, lovergirl. To celebrate, we've got one Richard Hatch special coming up in the next chapter! :D

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	7. in which we learn new way to wear a buff

Chapter 7

The chapter in which we learn a new way to wear a buff

Dawn is breaking over Asema beach. Pale blues and pinks light the edges of inky clouds floating high in the sky and sparkle across the ripples at the surface of the water below. A throbbing, orange glow lines the horizon and threatens to burst over the entire sky and ocean at any moment.

Edward sits alone, making Sudoku puzzles for himself in the sand. The Hellsings are all sleeping, and it's been hours since the rest of the Cullens disappeared two by two into the forest. The two couples have a lot of, er, catching up to do, and so Edward is left alone with his thoughts.

He hasn't been thinking about strategy. The plan is fairly straightforward – with the numbers in their favor, the Cullens will vote the Hellsings out one by one, so they have four Tribal Councils before they will have to start eating their own. He'll have plenty of time to get a read on his siblings' intentions in the meantime, and winning this thing should be a cinch. So instead of worrying over strategy, he spends his time thinking about Bella and their daughter, Renesmee, the uncertain future of America, numbers in the sand, classical music, and opera. One thing he doesn't think about is the imposing, but stoically beautiful Hellsing leader. No, he does not think about Integra…much.

The front door of the shelter creaks open and Walter steps out onto the porch. He places his hands at his waist and arches his back, letting out a groan as several vertebrae snap into place. He spots Edward's svelte form on the on the beach and strolls over to say, "Good morning." The two gentlemen banter about cordially until Integra makes her appearance on the porch.

"Good morning, Sir Integra," Walter calls out. "What shall I make you for breakfast today – would you prefer rice, rice or rice?"

Integra gives a disgruntled sigh at the thought of returning to the same old boring fare and then walks out to help Walter lay new timber in the fire pit.

Just as the flames catch, the rest of the Cullens start to reappear. Alice and Jasper look very chipper as they emerge from the trees to the east. To the west, Rosalie saunters out to the beach, adjusting a red buff over her bikini top while another one holds her golden waves back from her angelic face. Behind her comes Emmett, wearing nothing but an enormous, impish grin. There's not a stitch on the boy - he's completely nekkid. He's Michelangelo's David with about twice the bulk, but all the same body parts exposed and sparkling in the sunlight that has finally burst free.

Integra claps a hand over her eyes, and Walter, knowing his boss isn't going to like the helpless feeling of losing her vision, steps close just as she reaches out her other hand to grip his narrow bicep.

"For God's sake, Emmett!" Edward shouts. "Couldn't you have gotten dressed in private like everybody else?"

"No go, bro," Emmett responds nonchalantly. "The thing you don't seem to understand is that I'm not getting dressed at all."

"What?????" five dismayed voices exhale in unison.

"You heard me. I don't see any 'dad.' And I don't see any 'mom_.'_" The marble-god-like figure raises his fingers in air quotes as he says _dad_ and _mom,_ and then adds, "Ergo, I don't see any clothes on 'BigE.'"

At the moment, no one is sure which is more horrifying – Emmett refusing to get dressed, or Emmett referring to himself in the third person with the creepy nickname.

He's either oblivious to their horror or simply doesn't care, because he puffs his chest out with his hands placed very Superman-like to his waist and surveys the horizon as he comments with great satisfaction, "Yep, I've been wanting to live this way for a looong time. But I knew Carlisle and Esme would never go for it. Rose doesn't object, so now, the only one I have to answer to is me."

"Mr. Probst may have something to say about it," Integra says, grasping at straws while she worriedly clasps Walter's arm. Honestly, with all the things she'd had do deal with back at Hellsing Manor, she'd never had to face anything quite like this. The English simply didn't parade around in the nude.

"Don't worry about it - they've got a fuzzy thing on the camera to blur out the naughty bits," Emmett shrugs. "Hope its big enough, _he' he'_."

Alice turns to Rosalie, looking for some help, but Rosalie merely stands back with her arms crossed and an amused smirk across her pink lips. She's not going to be any help at all.

"Well, out of consideration for our new friends, can you at least wear a buff or something to cover _it_ up?" Alice demands angrily.

Emmett looks to Rosalie and says, "What do you think, babe?"

"Sure, why not," she answers while she sets her golden waves loose of Emmett's red buff and flings it to him like a rubber band.

Emmett walks behind a tree to pull on the buff, but before he returns, Edward comes to understand that his brother isn't covering himself quite the way Alice had intended.

"Emmett," he warns in a low growl.

"What is it, Edward?" Emmett asks with false innocence as he reemerges with the bright red buff covering _it_, and only _it. _The buff is twisted and twirled around _it _– and only _it_. Furthermore, the stretchy fabric must be applying pressure in all the right places, because _it_ is pointing due north like a big, bright red compass needle.

"Ahh…ah…" Alice tries forming her tiny mouth around something threatening, but the effect is ruined when she busts out laughing. Rosalie laughs, too. Ever since he came to her aid after the episode with Alucard yesterday, Emmett can do no wrong in her eyes.

Edward and Jasper merely exchange exasperated glances. They know there'll be no reasoning with their brother now that he's got an adoring audience.

"Walter?" Integra says confused by the laughter.

She starts to lower her hand from her eyes, but Walter gently pushes it back in place, saying, "Not quite yet, sir,"

But Integra's hand flies from her face and all eyes go to the sky when a screech pierces the morning from high above. They see a majestic spread of wings gliding gracefully away and hear a thump on one of the coffins. Alice rushes over and snatches the scroll of paper that the bird has dropped. She dashes back to the others while she unrolls it, and then reads aloud:

"_Report to main beach for your just dessert._

_In this game, all your will you must exert._

_Of only one thing there isn't a doubt:_

_Whatever goes in must surely come out._"

Walter and Integra hurriedly knock on the coffins to wake their vampires while the Cullens speculate on what might be in store for them at this next challenge.

"_All your will_…do you think this will be an endurance challenge?" Alice asks. "Where you, like, have to stand on a pole or something and see who lasts longest?"

"We're vampires, Alice," Emmett says disparagingly. "We can stand there for the rest of eternity – what kind of a dumbass challenge would that be?"

"_Whatever goes in must surely come out_," Edward says thoughtfully. "Perhaps a maze of some sort…"

"What do you make of the _just dessert_? Do you think certain players might get some kind of payback for their conniving ways?" Jasper asks, with a pointed glance toward Rosalie.

The Hellsings rejoin them and Walter very wisely comments, "I suppose there's only one way to find out what it means. Are we ready to go?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, all nine remaining Survivors are lined up at the main beach facing Jeff Probst. He's holding the ominous immunity idol. Its crystal heart pulses in the sunlight. Next to Probst is a small table with a very large cake on it. Dessert.

Upon spying cake, Integra – who is looking at anything but Emmett – thinks, _Ooh, I wonder if it's chocolate. _She feels a giggle start to bubble up her throat, but stifles it just in time (lest she tick off a certain reader of this story O_o).

Rosalie stands as far away as possible from Alucard, but he is foremost in her mind. Her one objective today is to make sure that he doesn't win individual immunity. Jeff is about to explain to everyone that it is, in fact, going to be impossible for Alucard to win immunity today.

"Welcome to the first individual immunity challenge, everyone," Probst says, deepening his charming dimples as he smiles warmly on everyone. "How'd your first night go as one Tribe? I see Emmett seems to have had a very good night," he teases as his eyes flick to the swaddled appendage. "As you know, you are no longer competing as a group, but as individuals. Whoever wins today's challenge will get to take _this_," he says, holding up the blood wood idol, "to Tribal Council tonight and you cannot be voted out.

"Normally," Jeff continues, "the privilege of immunity would be reserved for one person, but we have special circumstances. I'm sure you'll all recall that we started out this game with uneven numbers. We split out into three equal tribes, but Tribe Hellsing was outnumbered two to one by the original Tribe Cullen. To be fair - for this first Tribal Council only – members of the original Tribe Hellsing will each receive automatic immunity, so only the Cullens will be competing today for the remaining immunity."

"What?"

"No way, man!"

"You can't do that!"

"I strenuously object."

"This is bullshit!"

"Hey, all's fair in love, war and Survivor," Jeff explains with a tough-crap shrug of his shoulders.

Integra's and Seras' jaws drop. Can this really be happening? Their mouths pull up into a smile when Walter claps his hands on their shoulders, and the three of them lean into a group hug as they realize what this means – Hellsing now has a real shot at winning this thing! They know the Cullens were planning to take them out one by one, so their only remaining hope had been for one of them – most likely Alucard – to win all of the key challenges. Now that the numbers will be evened out, perhaps all four of them will be able to pull it out through the end.

Alucard merely sneers at the Cullens' outrage. To him that's the best thing about this announcement. Even numbers mean nothing to him; he figures either way he has this thing in the bag.

"Okay, Alice, Edward, Emmett, Jasper and Rosalie, please step over here," Jeff requests, indicating for them to come line up next to the table. "Today's challenge is simple. See that cake? You're each going to eat a big, fat slice of it."

Integra feels a wave of envy pass through her, but all five of the sparkling Unstet vampires cringe. While Nosferatu have a tolerance for certain foods, Unstet do not. They can take human food in – with the nasty, bitter flavor that it has for them – but it ain't gonna stay there. Their bodies don't require it, and so their bodies are going to reject it, one way or another. And it's not usually pretty. That would explain the mischievous twinkle in Jeff's eye as he finishes his explanation.

"You'll have thirty seconds to ingest your piece of cake, and the person who can keep it down the longest wins."

He pulls out a large knife and cuts the cake into five enormous pieces. As he dishes it out, they can see that it's a white cake with custard filling. He hands a plate to each of the Cullens and they look down at the fluffy sweetness the way you or I would gaze upon a plate full of live, slimy worms that are about to slither down our throats.

"On my go, you'll have thirty seconds to get it all down," Jeff says with his hand raised. "Ready – and - go!"

The five vampires dive into the cake without a thought to its nasty flavor.

"Emmett gets half of it in his mouth in one bite, but can he gulp all that down in time? Everyone else taking it in smaller doses. Jasper's got an interesting sucking approach that seems to be working for him.

"Ten seconds down. Twenty to go."

The vampires speed it up, and now the taste is starting to get to them. Rosalie lifts her head to take a big breath of fresh air before forcing more sugar and flour down her throat. Jasper grits his teeth and groans before sucking in more cake. Edward's eyes are clamped tightly shut in determination as he chews the baked good.

"Fifteen seconds. Alice, you're going to have to get that frosting off your nose."

Alice pulls her head up and looks cross-eyed at the white glob on her nose. She reaches out a surprisingly long, narrow tongue and swipes it across her nose, licking it clean and then gets back to business with what's left on her plate.

"Ten seconds to get those plates cleaned off – nine-eight-seven-six-"

Emmett swallows his last bit while the rest of them nibble and lick madly at their plates.

"Five-four-three-two-one and time."

The Cullens all dutifully hold up their plates and stick out their tongues. Jeff walks the line to inspect and confirms that they've all passed the first phase of the challenge. A unified rumbling from all of their stomachs signals the beginning of phase II.

Emmett seems to be feeling it the worst and holds his arms to his belly.

"First to finish may not have been the best strategy here," Jeff comments as he notes the largest Cullen's struggle.

"Oh, God," Emmett groans, and then his body heaves. Now, as you may very well know, there is good naked and there is bad naked. And convulsing spasms while the body works to wretch up something foul is decidedly bad naked. Emmett's body gives a final lurch before his cake reemerges from his mouth in a rather more liquefied form. The frosting and custard have now mixed with the acids of Emmett's stomach to create a rancid stew that splatters on the beach. Its vile stench permeates the air all around him.

Rosalie looks over to what her mate has created in the sand. The putrid smell and the sight of the soggy, greenish chunks of cake send her to her knees where she starts coughing and spitting out her own dessert.

The Hellsings take about ten steps back as the stench is now doubled. Walter and Integra are looking a bit green, and Seras is dismayed at the plight of her new friends, but Alucard can't take his joyous eyes off of Rosalie, shamed and miserable on her knees, right where she belongs.

"Two down, two to go before we have a winner," Jeff says.

A bad sounding grumble rips through Jasper, but it seems to be headed south. "Oh, shit!" he shouts. Then he takes off running - or waddling rather – to the trees to expel the cake in some privacy.

After a few moments and sound of several flatulent emissions, Jeff calls, "Is it safe to assume you're out, Jasper."

"I'm ou-…uughgh," Jasper groans as the sounds of a few more explosive squirts drift out over the beach.

Alice and Edward look at each other. The last two left. They've been teammates through this whole experience and now they're facing off against each other. Edward kinks one side of his mouth up in his customary, crooked smile. He's feeling nauseous, but his will is strong, and he has no problem standing here all day if that's what it takes. Alice is on weaker ground than he is. She's strong-willed, too, but her body is smaller and can't tolerate as much.

Alice's eyes narrow. She knows her brother well enough to know that she's going to have to pull out some tricks if she's going to win this. She decides its time to put his claims regarding his feelings for Jasper to the ultimate test. If he's been lying, then this could backfire, but it's the only thing she can think of that won't shake her as much as it can potentially shake him.

She turns her mind to the previous night in the forest: _she's kneeling on the scruffy ground in front of Jasper while he leans back on a tree and moans, "Oh, baby…"_ It turns out that cake isn't the only non-hemoglobin-related substance Alice has ingested in the past twenty-four hours.

The memory sends Edward sprinting to the water's edge, and he gains powerful evidence to back up his claims that he is not gay for Jasper when he tosses his cookies, or cake rather, into the ocean. Alice giggles and then her tiny shoulder flinch upwards and her throat constricts. Her body intermittently relaxes and constricts in dainty convulsions several times before she throws her hand to her mouth, squeaks, and then holds out a neat little cake ball in the palm of her hand.

Jeff throws his arms in the air and declares, "Immunity goes to Alice."

Alice jumps and squeals in victory, and then whips the moist cake ball at the back of Edward's head while he continues to bend over the waves, spitting out a few final remnants. Jeff hands her the idol, which she promptly grasps, laying a big, fat smooch on the red, wooden bat lips that had previously creeped her out.

* * *

Everything has changed. One of the Cullens will be voted out tonight, and then they'll be even with the Hellsings - which means that both sides must now begin trolling the other group for a potential traitor. Not only do the Cullens have to worry about those future moves, they each also have to try to save their own neck tonight. Edward, at least, has the advantage of knowing what the others are thinking. Or does he?

He considers Rosalie to be the biggest wildcard in the family, so on the walk back to camp, he zeroes in on her. She's thinking about her favorite Lenny Kravitz song. Sizzling electric guitars are punctuated by a simple drum beat while Lenny's gruff voice belts out the lyrics.

…_don't come knocking round my door; I don't wanna see your shadow no more; colored lights can hypnotize; sparkle someone else's eyes_…(1)

_So obstinate_, Edward thinks. She's letting him know that she's not here to play _his_ game. He's not worried; he has other avenues for figuring out Rosalie's plans. Unfortunately, a mess of banging drums and tortured guitars wrack Emmett's mind at the moment. Edward nearly groans out loud when he realizes what band is playing in his head. The Ramones. Edward can't stand the Ramones. Talentless hacks shouting about absolutely nothing.

…_guess I'll have to break the news that I've got no mind to lose; all the girls are in love with me; I'm a teenage lobotomy…__(2)_

Emmett knows Edward despises that song. _Is he doing it on purpose?_ Edward wonders. He decides to stop wasting his time and goes straight to Alice, his partner in crime. Perhaps she's seen something about the future that will help. Nope. She's internally be-bopping to a peppy beat accompanied by a rich, whiney female voice.

…_something sweet and something strong; seems like love no longer can turn me on; like the girls in suits and those pretty boys; I gave my heart to rock n' roll, to rock n' roll, rock n' roll, rock n' roll, oh oh uh oh…__(3)_

Is she purposely blocking him out, too? Has she had a change of heart regarding their alliance? Her spiky black head starts bobbing to the music, and Edward chastises himself - she's just having a good time, and he's just being paranoid.

But surely she must have left her mouth free long enough to talk at least a little strategy with Jasper last night. He turns his attention toward his dirty-blond brother and isn't terribly surprised to hear Kurt Cobain's gravely voice screaming amongst a flurry of skilled, rock instrumentals. But when his voice slows down and smoothes out, Edward is unnerved by what Kurt has to say.

…_just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you…__(4)_

Clearly Edward's family is messing with him. He can't blame them – they've all been thrown for a loop and naturally need some time with their own private thoughts before sharing them with him. Although he struggles with it, he's always tried to use his gift responsibly and not be too invasive. If he's going to keep their trust, it's more important than ever that he respect their privacy now.

But the Hellsings are another matter. As far as he's concerned, they are still the enemy – and as Jeff said, all's fair in love, war and Survivor. Edward is merely gathering intelligence for his side, and where better to start than with their leader?

It only takes a few measures of 'Ride of the Valkyries' for Edward to figure out that his little mind reading secret is not, in fact, a secret at all. But Integra is being kind and listening to an instrumental version, so at least there aren't any mewing cats. Edward smirks at her cheekiness and moves on to the kindly butler. He realizes that Sir Hellsing has probably surreptitiously ordered them all to block their thoughts for the time being, but perhaps he can get some helpful insights into their personalities.

Walter's head is a hoppin' place to be. Big band horns swing, and a piano clinks, and it's quite obvious that Walter is optimistic about Hellsing's new lease on the game.

…_baby, what I couldn't do, with plenty of money and you; in spite of the worry that money brings, just a little filthy loot could buy us a lot of things…(__5)_

Aha! So he's not here strictly under orders. He really wants to win this thing.

Money seems to be less of a motivating factor to Hellsing's junior vampire. Right now, the Betty Boop like, soprano-trained voice of Kristen Chenoweth is ruminating in her head about the important things in life.

…_it's all about po-pu-u-lar; it's not about aptitude; it's the way you're viewed, so it's very shrewd to be very, very popular like me!..._(6)

Hmm, perhaps Alice and Rosalie could sway young Seras to their side?

Edward has purposely put the last mind off until the end. As eager as he is to get away from the show tune, he doesn't want to go in there. He can't imagine what the vindictive vampire has in store for him now that he's been warned of potential eavesdropping. And so, Edward is surprised to find that Alucard's mind is relatively relaxed and somewhat absent.

It's no effort for the ancient Nosferatu to exclude a relative newbie like Edward Cullen. Instead, he's let his mind wander, and it's unfortunately fixated on a song that he doesn't even like. But somebody recently sent the link to him on YouTube, and now he can't get the damned thing out of his head.

…_last week, I saw a film; as I recall it was a horror film; walked outside into the rain; checked my phone and saw you rang, and I jizzed - in - my - pants…(__7)_

Whoah! Edward's had his fill of jizz for the day, so he flicks his mind reflexively elsewhere and lands back on Integra. At least this is something he can stand, so long as there're no voices. But, alas, a voice does kick in, and it's grouchy and cartoony and has a wicked speech impediment.

…_kill the wabbit; kill the wabbit; kill the wabbit…__(8)_

Edward sees the corner of Integra's mouth flicker up, and he really, really wishes he didn't find this playful side of her to be so inconveniently adorable. He knows he shouldn't stay here, and unintentionally drifts back to Alucard.

…_and when we're holding hands, it's like having sex to me; you say I'm premature; I just call it ecstasy; I wear a rubber at all times; it's a necessity…(__9)_

You know what? Sometimes this mind reading thing is a real pain in the ass.

* * *

They arrive at Camp Asema, and Edward pulls his siblings aside and whispers quickly, "One of us is going tonight, but we've got to set this up to improve the odds for the remaining four. You girls work on getting Seras to our side. I think if you befriend her, she may switch sides. Jasper, Emmett, and I will work on the old man. I get the sense that he'll do whatever it takes to win that million dollars, even if it means joining us. Are you with me?"

They all give an inconspicuous nod and then Rosalie presses her sultry lips together and sneers malevolently, "Divide and conquer."

She and Alice walk over toward Integra and Seras, who is still sporting her new, supportive style. Integra's look has also evolved, albeit unintentionally. Minus the straight, mannish jacket, the outline of her curved feminine form is more apparent. And the rolled sleeves and loosened buttons of her white blouse, in response to the heat, make her seem softer. Almost like a girl.

As the Cullen women approach, Integra plasters on a cold, forced smile. In contrast, Seras' warm smile is wholly genuine. Little Alice gives a nervous sort of giggle, and Rosalie knows her sister is not going to be able to handle this schmoozing thing. Alice's typical approach to getting what she wants goes something like this: pester – pester – annoy - pester. Eventually, the other person always gives in, but Rosalie highly doubts that approach is going to work with the stick-up-her-ass Hellsing leader. So she tries another.

"Look, you're both smart women. You know the only reason we're over here is to save our butts at the next vote. So here's the deal – we take Edward out tonight."

"Rosalie!" Alice shouts.

Rosalie turns an angry glare on her sister, "Shht! He's busy over there with the boys – he won't hear us unless you go drawing his attention. Look," she continues as she glances back and forth between the three women, "he can read our thoughts. It's in all of our best interests to get him out of here. We don't know where this game is going, and we certainly don't need him poking his nose into our business along the way."

"Excuse me a moment," Alice says politely and yanks Rosalie back several yards for a private word. The Hellsing women simply watch them curiously and with more than a touch of amusement. "What are you doing? It's Edward…" Alice pleads.

"Would you rather it be Jasper?" Rosalie retorts harshly. "I sure as hell don't want it to be Emmett. So let's just get them to agree to this, and then you can play with Seras for the rest of the day and start working on her to come over to our side at the next vote." She stares hard at Alice and watches the tiny crinkle form between her sister's eyes. Then she softens her tone and gently tousles Alice's hair as she says, "It's just a game, sweetie. Edward knows that. And besides, we'll be sending him to Bella – he'll probably thank us."

Alice's face brightens a little and Rosalie clinches it: "I won't push forward with this if you're not okay with it. We can just walk back there and tell them deal's off and let the votes fall where they may…"

"No!" Alice shouts. "I mean, um, I think you're right. This is the best way. Everybody wins, right? He'll be with Bella, and we get to stay with our boys…for a little while longer at least."

Rosalie smiles and they walk back to Integra and Seras where they by all appearances agree to vote out Edward. Then Alice and Seras go skipping of into the forest to hunt for furry animals to play with. Now Rosalie can get down to real business. Her number one priority is to get Alucard outta here. And even though that can't happen tonight, she can sure as hell make sure it happens very soon. It would be lovely if she could count on Seras to join the remaining Cullen four to do the dirty deed, but Rosalie doubts very much that the young vamp has the cajones to defy her domineering cohorts. No, if Rosalie wants to slay the dragon, she's going to need Integra's help.(10)

As soon as Alice and Seras are out of hearing range, Rosalie turns point blank to Integra and says, "Voting out Edward tonight would be the dumbest thing you could do."

"Pardon?" Integra asks, flabbergasted.

"You've got to take this opportunity to break up Alice and Jasper. They are rock solid; they'll never vote against each other. It's best to break your competitors into single, bite sized pieces. And Jasper's been around the block – he's a stiff competitor and a big threat in individual immunity. I say we take him out tonight."

Integra's mouth drops open, and she watches Rosalie carefully. The two women have barely spoken two words to each other up to this point, and now Mount Rosalie has opened up on her like a schizophrenic volcano. She has no idea what the girl is going to propose next.

"And that will play perfectly into phase II," Rosalie adds with a knowing look at Integra, who doesn't actually _know_ anything at the moment.

"Phase II?" she asks cautiously.

"Phase II," Rosalie repeats with a gleam in her golden eyes. "A secret all girl alliance. You, me, Alice and Seras in the final four. We don't need to let anyone know about it until it's absolutely necessary. Those big, strong, egotistical boys will never guess that us sweet, little girls" (uh, when's the last time anyone ever referred to either Rosalie or Integra as _sweet_?) "would turn on them. They'll never catch a hint of what's going on until it's too late. But if we're going to keep it a secret, we can't tell Alice. She'll never go along with voting him out. So we do it for her. We don't need her vote tonight - you get your crew to vote Jasper, and I'll vote with you."

Integra nods her head. Getting rid of Jasper tonight makes sense from many angles. He is a strong competitor. And this way, Edward will stick around a little longer…not that that matters to her or anything…it's just strategy. But an all girls alliance? She's not so sure about that. But no matter, they could use Rosalie's vote to get Jasper out tonight and then go from there.

Rosalie interrupts her thoughts. "But here's the condition - Alucard goes out next."

That's it. Vampire Barbie is out of control.

"I hardly think you are in a position to be laying down any conditions, Miss Cullen," Integra says firmly. She'd really love to whip out a cigar right now, to cement her image of authority, but she's only got three left and is rationing.

"Hale," Rosalie says curtly.

"What?"

"Hale, my last name is Hale."

"But I thought you were-"

"A Cullen, yeah, I know, everyone thinks I'm Cullen. But my human name was Hale, so that's what we go with."

"But aren't you married to-"

"Emmett? Yeah, but I go by Hale."

"Okay," Integra says, shaking her head and getting refocused. "Well, Miss-"

"Ms."

Integra grinds her teeth, wishing even more for that cigar and continues, "_Ms_. Hale. You hardly have any room for setting conditions. We can just as easily vote you out tonight as anyone else. Now, I'm willing to listen to you, but you have to start making sense. There is no chance that we will agree to voting anyone from Hellsing out the next vote. That would leave us vulnerable with only three from our original tribe against your four."

Rosalie was hoping to gloss over that little fact, but there was clearly no glossing over anything with Hellsing's chief. "Fine," she concedes. "Jasper tonight, Edward next, but then Alucard."

Integra studies her and then lays down an ultimatum. "Emmett."

"Emmett?"

"You are asking me to trust you and to sacrifice my lead vampire. You're going to have to make some sacrifices, too."

"But I'm sacrificing my brothe-" Rosalie starts, but Integra shoots her a withering look and she changes gears. "Fine - Jasper then Emmett."

"Emmett tonight," Integra counters.

"Tonight?" Rosalie gasps, letting more despair leak out than she'd intended. This isn't a scenario she'd foreseen. But looking at Integra's steely expression, she can see that this is the only way she's going to gain this woman's trust.

And Emmett will understand. This is just a game, after all. It isn't real life. Why, he'll probably be proud of her for managing to pull it off, won't he? Rosalie knows Emmett will do whatever she asks, especially if it means retaliation on that bastard Alucard. Well, this is what she's going to ask him to do. And he will do it.

"Emmett tonight," Rosalie concedes quietly.

Integra's mouth spreads into a satisfied and somewhat imperious grin, and Rosalie does not like the sudden sense of being this woman's underling.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Rosalie snaps suspiciously, observing Integra through narrowed eyes.

Integra keeps the superior smirk on her face when she answers. "You don't. But that's the way this game works. You have to decide to trust somebody at some point and hope that trust is well placed. Like Lex, for example. Ethan was a trustworthy ally in Survivor Africa, but then he made the mistake of trusting Boston Rob in Survivor All Stars. The question you need to ask yourself is this: Am I Ethan or am I Boston Rob?"

Rosalie pulls her sculpted eyebrows together. She's totally confused. "You…you watch Survivor?"

Integra's smug face tightens and her eyes flash. "Hasn't anyone ever heard of doing a LITTLE RESEARCH AROUND HERE!?!" She throws her hands up in the air and storms off, leaving Rosalie wondering exactly where they left things.

* * *

Meanwhile, the boys are busy at the shelter. Well, _four_ of the boys are busy. One is sleeping in his coffin. Again. With his alliance safe from the vote tonight, he sees no reason to tax himself by, you know, staying awake.

During the storm the other night, part of the roof was ripped off the shelter. It didn't make much difference at the time, but now that Walter and Integra are sleeping in the attic room, it's a problem. So Edward, Jasper, Walter and Emmett are on the roof doing manly work. As is typical with men, the conversation is stilted and what they've said has been of little importance. There's been virtually no talk of strategy. Up till now, most of the conversation has been geared toward the weather.

Even when Edward taps into Walters sentiments, he finds that the elderly butler is mostly thinking of – the weather. And Edward can tell that the more Jasper tries to dope him up with trusting sentiments, the more suspicious he becomes. But the pony-tailed old man is surprisingly lithe on the rooftop and is quite helpful for a human.

There's really not much that Jasper or Emmett can say out loud strategy-wise. Jasper can't tell Emmett that he wants Rosalie gone. He's kicking himself for not taking advantage of the opportunity to get her out at the last two Tribals and wants to correct that error now. Emmett, by default – since Alice has immunity and he won't vote out Rosalie – wants it to be either Edward or Jasper tonight. He can't exactly announce that up on the rooftop, even if it's easy enough to deduce.

It's a welcome distraction from the tension of things unsaid when Rosalie approaches to ask Emmett if he wants to go for a walk. Emmett jumps down eagerly from the roof, and when the impact of landing sends his mummified organ swinging back and forth like the beam of a cherry-red light saber in battle, everyone on the roof becomes violently conscious of a very good reason to write Emmett's name down on a card tonight.

Alice wanders over to the shelter a few minutes later seeking Jasper. Before he jumps down from the roof, he turns to Edward and says, "Are you with me, man?"

Edward answers, "Yes. I agree; I'm with you. I'll see what I can do." Jasper nods, and then hops down to join his wife, for perhaps the last time for a while, leaving Edward and Walter to work on each other.

Walter seems like a straightforward fellow to Edward, so Edward decides to play it straight with him. "Who are you thinking about voting for tonight?" he asks.

"Well…" Walter answers thoughtfully. "A good argument can be made for any one of you. I think I could be swayed at this point, Mr. Edward. Would you care to make a case to me?"

Edward smiles. He likes Walter, and he thinks for a brief moment that it's too bad that they've been forced onto opposite sides. "Jasper and I are thinking Rosalie. She's already playing this game pretty hard, and she's probably the biggest threat as far as strategy. Emmett's the only one who can trust her completely."

"Hmm," Walter murmurs as he secures a slab of lumber to the roof with tree sap. "What about taking voting for Emmett? He's the bigger threat physically, and by removing him, we take away much of Rosalie's power, do we not?"

Edward considers this proposal. "I suppose you have a good point there."

"Tell me about Jasper," Walter says. "Do you trust him?"

"I trust Alice. And as long as I trust Alice, I trust Jasper."

Walter is silent in thought for a few minutes, and Edward waits for him to sort through his thoughts and speak. "You're in a rather precarious position, aren't you, Mr. Edward," he states.

"How do you mean?" Edward asks.

"Well, it appears that no matter which way you go, if it's all Cullens in the final four, the best you can hope for is top three. It sounds as if the couples are unbreakable, and so, whichever two you're left with will not take you to the final two."

"I could win the last immunity challenge," Edward points out. "Then I get to pick one of them."

"Thirty-three percent chance, then. You're okay with that?" Walter asks gently.

Edward smiles at the old man's persistence, "Well, I don't see what other choice I have. If you're suggesting that I join your group, I hardly think I need to point out that top three is better than top five."

"That is true," Walter says with a small chuckle, but his tone turns deadly serious when he sets down his work to look straight at Edward and says, "But it's not as good as top two."

Walter continues steadily watching Edward. Edward stares back and comprehends everything. Walter wants to form a secret alliance with him. He trusts Edward. He trusts his own Hellsing team, as well, but he knows that he is low man on the totem pole there. The best he can hope for with them is top three, just like Edward. But that shouldn't matter to either one of them – they should be happy so long as anyone from their own group wins. But they are men. They don't want to settle for third best.

Walter wants to make a pact with Edward to take each other to the final two. Can Edward do that? Can he walk away from his family to better his own position? Does Walter have the ability to convince the Abercrombie vampire to take that chance?

.

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**Footnotes:**

(1) Lyrics to 'American Woman'; written by Randy Bachman, Burton Cummings, Gary Peterson, Michael Kale; performed by Lenny Kravitz.

(2) Lyrics to 'Teenage Lobotomy'; written by Joey Ramone, Johny Ramone, Dee Dee Ramone and Tommy Ramone; performed by The Ramones.

(3) Lyrics to 'Rock n' Roll'; written by The Sounds; performed by The Sounds.

(4) Lyrics to 'Territorial Pissings'; written by Kurt Cobain and Chet Powers; Performed by Nirvana

(5) Lyrics to 'With Plenty of Money and You'; written by Hal Kemp; performed by Count Basie

(6) Lyrics to 'Popular' from the musical Wicked; written by Stephen Schwartz; performed by Kristen Chenoweth

(7) Lyrics to 'Jizz in my Pants'; written by Akiva Schaffer, Jorma Taccone, and Andy Samberg; performed by The Lonely Island. If you haven't had the pleasure of seeing the video, treat yourself at YouTube with this link: /watch?v=0iU43tSFHjo. Then you might enjoy seeing this Twilight version (courtesy of the Boot): /watch?v=A_jNjAUI_hc.

(8) From the Looney Toons episode, titled, 'What's Opera Doc.'

(9) See footnote 14. You seriously _have_ to watch that video. But be warned – you won't be able to get it out of your head (right, geophfo? ^.~ )

(10) 'Slay the dragon,' is a nod to Coach from Survivor Tocantins, who is arguably the most entertaining Survivor _ever_.

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**Author's Note:**

In a round-a-bout way, Edward's talk of Wabbits and Elmer Fudd in the last chapter sparked the idea for a short story by the one and only _Metropolis Kid_! It's called "_Of Wits, Wills and Wabbits_," and you can find it at his profile page or on my favorites. It's a fun, clever story and you will definitely see Edward as you've never seen him before.

Speaking of wabbits - thanks to everyone who voted in my bunny poll! That poll is closed and we have a winner!!! It was a close race, but you'll find out which way it went in coming chapters...

I'd like to give an official welcome to _Fallen Monkey_ who has caught up with the story just in time for reader voting and has blessed me with her first ever review on ! And just so y'all know, this little primate is responsible for getting me hooked like a junkie on Twilight in the first place. So blame her.

READER VOTING STARTS...NOW! You can vote via my profile in the poll at the top of the page. Your selections will include anyone that was mentioned in this chapter as a possible vote, so…Edward, Emmett, Jasper or Rosalie. BUT before you vote – think it through, don't just be all emotional and stuff. Perhaps you can't stand, say Rosalie, but you like the idea of a girlie alliance – well, you can't just go voting for Rosie then, can you? Or say you've have a long-held vendetta against Edward, but you have a great fondness for Walter. Voting out Edward would foil all of Walter's grand plans, wouldn't it? So see, lots to consider. Tell you what, why don't you think through your vote while leaving me a review?

UPDATE: READER VOTING FOR CHAPTER 7 HAS BEEN CLOSED. WE HAVE A WINNER, ER, LOSER. CHAPTER 8 IS IN PRODUCTION AND YOU WILL FIND OUT THE RESULT OF THE POLL IN A FEW DAYS.

And just so you know, there are no plans for Emmett to put on any clothes whatsoever during his remaining time at Vampire Island, so there's _that_ to consider, too.

Thanks for reading! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed – you all are seriously the absolute best. And thanks to everyone who is going to review. Don't be intimidated by the stunning and insightful novels that my regular (fa-bu-lous) reviewers leave me. I appreciate all reviews, no matter how short. As a matter of fact, if anyone out there happens to know LordXeenTheGreat, please let him know that I am dying for him to leave me his signature 'Nice.' Seriously, I don't even care if he misspells it.

-LiLa


	8. in which they tell ghost stories

Chapter 8

The chapter in which they tell ghost stories

Alucard is downright chipper when the group arrives back at camp after Tribal Council. Now _that_ was his idea of a good time – from the thick tension and waves of vindictive manipulation that had swarmed him the moment he'd emerged from his coffin, to the rising fear among the Cullens as Jeff had probed the individuals with his direct and often heartless questioning, to the misery that had ensued when the torch of one of their own had been snuffed.

The only thing that would have made it better would have been if instead of putting out the torch, Probst would've shoved it into the ousted Cullen's face. That would've been good for a laugh - the figure stumbling around, wailing and gnashing its teeth as the flames engulfed every limb in fiery death.

Alucard chuckles darkly to himself as he pictures it, and he even sets the scene to music in his own mind with the baritone rumblings of the one and only Johnny Cash.

…_I fell into a burning ring of fire; I fell down, down, down, and the flames went higher, and it burns, burns, burns…(__1)_

The thought becomes so vivid that it invades Edward's mind, and he snaps a disgusted glare at the insensitive monster. Jasper senses Edward's outrage, and although his empathic powers have already been pushed to their limits tonight, he musters a tiny balm for his brother.

Alice releases Jasper's hand and tells him, "I'm going to go gather up wood. I think we could all use a bonfire."

"Oh yes, let's build up _huge_," Alucard leers, "see if we can't lose another Cullen tonight. That big dope's exit wasn't nearly dramatic enough for me. "

"You bastard!" Rosalie screeches and lunges toward him. The best Jasper can do for his sister is to hold her back. Her mixed emotions about tonight's vote have culminated to the point that the best thing to do is to simply let her feel them. But she doesn't need to get torn apart by the powerful Nosferatu in the process.

After a few moments Rosalie calms down and shakes Jasper off with a sharp, "I'm fine." She's taking consolation in the fact that she, herself, didn't write down Emmett's name. She didn't have to. But she can't stop blaming herself for putting him on the chopping block in the first place…but was it really her doing, or would the Hellsings have voted him anyway? She'd probably never know for sure.

All she knows is that she didn't say a word to Emmett about the vote when they'd taken their earlier walk together. She'd been too uncertain about where things had been left with Integra, and didn't see the need to bring it up with him if it wasn't even going to happen. Besides, why mess up what could possibly be her and Emmett's last time together for a while? Emmett had seemed to be operating under the same philosophy and didn't waste any energy on game strategy, using it instead for other _activities_.

As Rosalie passively watches the timber being piled into a mound in the sand and the first flames start to take it over, she sighs deeply and wonders what she's going to miss the most – her husband's stamina or his creativity.

When she and Emmett had emerged from the forest, Edward had immediately pulled them aside to tell them that he'd decided to vote for Emmett. "I'm sorry E, but it has to be one of us, and you're my biggest threat physically. If we end up in a challenge that comes down to brute strength, there's no way I can take you. You know that. Look, I just didn't want to blindside you. You deserve better than that," Edward had explained.

Rosalie had put up a mock fight, pulling Sir Integra aside, supposedly to try to sway her to vote for someone other than Emmett, but really she'd been cementing the all-girls alliance. So it had all worked out perfectly – the chips had fallen into place without Rosalie having to show her hand to anyone but Integra. Then why does Rosalie feel so rotten?

What she doesn't realize is that it wasn't only female minds working in unison to manipulate that vote. Although they'd initially considered voting out Rosalie, Walter and Edward together had decided that Emmett was the wiser choice – he was, in fact, a bigger threat in challenges, and eliminating him would weaken Rosalie's position, or so they thought. It had been a happy surprise to Walter when his boss had given him the order to vote for Emmett. The chips had fallen neatly into place without Walter having to show his hand to anyone but Edward.

Edward didn't realize that Walter may have had other motivations for getting rid of Emmett until the walk back from Tribal, when Dean Martin had floated through the elderly Brit's head

…_you're nobody till somebody loves you…(__2)_

These lyrics were occasionally spiced up with a brief flash of the image of none other than Rosalie.

…_but gold won't buy you happiness when you're growing old…(__3)_

Had the old man wanted Emmett out of the way so he could make a move? Edward shook his head at the ridiculous thought and tried to assuage his voter's-remorse by basking in the knowledge that Emmett had accepted his fate like a champ.

After groaning good-naturedly, the teddy-bear of a vampire had given Rosalie a swift peck on the cheek and then bounded over to Jeff with his torch. He even made extra sure that Edward knew he was cool with the way things had gone down by playfully substituting his own lyrics as he mentally listened to one of his all-time favorite songs.

_Could've beat you all in Survivor,_

_But I was high;_

_Should've scarfed the cake slower 'n won,_

_But I was high_

_Now Jeff's snuffin' my torch, and I know why_

_Cuz I got high, because I got high, because I got hi-igh__ (4)_

As he gave them all a jaunty two-fingered salute and headed off toward the speed boat that would take him away, the four remaining Cullens - and a couple of Hellsings - wondered what Carlisle and Esme were going to say when they got a load of their buck nekkid baby.

_La da da da da da…__(5)_

The fire is now blazing, and everyone takes their places around it. The dirty deed has been done, and now it's time for everyone to relax and take a tiny respite from the lies and manipulation. Alice has thrown herself into the spirit of a campfire. She claps her hands together, and with her eyes sparkling from firelight and excitement, she chirps, "Who knows a good ghost story? Something that'll really freak everyone out!"

Walter chuckles, "A ghost story that will freak out vampires. This ought to be good."

"C'mon, Jasper, you've got a bajillion creepy tales," Alice coaxes.

Now it's Edward and Rosalie's turn to chuckle. Their morbid brother, who dates back to the Civil War as a human and fought savagely in the Mexican vampire wars after that, certainly does seem to be a bottomless pit of gloom. Walter's ears perk up. He's eager to learn more about this quiet, mysterious Cullen covered in scars.

Alice takes the immunity figurine, which she keeps possession of until someone wins it away from her, and twists its feet into the sand so that it stands between her and Jasper. The flickering of the firelight makes the outstretched wings behind the thin figure throb, almost as if they are sluggishly flapping, and yellow glints catch on the crystal heart.

"There," Alice says imperiously, "now you have to tell us a story - the idol commands it!"

"I actually do have a story that might interest you all," Jasper says in a low, ominous voice. The deep vibration of his serious tone marks the perfect beginning to a fireside tale. "I never knew what it was, what had terrorized me that night, until Jeff relayed the story of the Asema on the day we merged. Now I know…" his voice trails off as he stares into the fire, and Alice has to nudge him to get him going again. When he resumes, combining more words than he's strung together thus far in the island adventure, the Londoners detect a slight American-southern twang in his accent.

"We were in the southern quadrant of Mexico, attempting to claim new territory by stealing hunting grounds away from the vampires that currently fed there. In order to keep the Italian watchdogs, the Volturi, off our backs, we laid low during the day and only fought at night. Still, the humans in the area were wisely wary of us. Except for one elderly gentleman who we'd often see tottering about the town. The happy-go-lucky smile that he constantly wore seemed grotesquely out of place with the tension that hung so thickly in the air. I noted the man, but never understood his significance...until two nights ago. I never before connected him with what had happened _that_ night."

Jasper is staring into the flames. He's now so wholly engrossed in the memory that the chilling emotions it evokes roll off of him and affect every single being around the fire. Eyes are wide and riveted on the storyteller as the golden glow of the flames lick his sharp features, giving it a fierce appearance.

"I went out that night with three of our more experienced soldiers. They were young, still operating mostly on instinct, but they were strong. We sensed the presence of another vampire inside a home. I could tell from its gluttonous rapture that it was feeding. We would sneak up on it while it was distracted by its feast, and destroy it. We surrounded the small house. Each of my three companions entered through a window while I went through the front door. We timed it so that we all four descended on our intended victim at the same exact moment.

"What we found was nothing close to the scenes of brutal vampire feedings that we'd interrupted before. There were no anguished screams coming from the victims, no gurgling streams of blood flowing out of them as their killer turned to face us, Most notably – there was no killer. No vampire. The only figures in the room were the three humans scattered throughout the main room, lying motionless. I still sensed the vampire's presence, but a quick inspection of the ancillary rooms by my soldiers revealed nothing.

"We cautiously approached the victims and examined them to see if, perhaps, their attacker was something other than a vampire. We could see by their snow white pallor that they'd been drained of their blood, but there was no visible wound, no remnants of dried or dripping blood. The strangest thing, however, was the expression on each of their faces. I shall never forget their faces. Their foreheads were pinched…not in pain…but misery. Their eyes didn't hold the expected dull glaze of death. There was something else to them, the way the eyelids crimped so tightly around them, their almost living sharpness. They were agonized, not with the agony of physical pain, but of mental torture.

"The mouths were all positioned differently. One was wide open, with lips constricted over the teeth as if caught mid-scream. Another was set hard with its teeth bared and grinding together. The last was biting its lower lip in despair, gouging a cut so deep that it should have been bleeding…had there been a drop of blood left in the body. This was another anomaly. Our kind of vampire is never able to completely drain a body before the remaining blood becomes too tainted with our own venom. (6)

"Whatever had killed these people was like nothing we had ever seen before. With a look, I commanded my soldiers to expeditiously exit the scene the same way in which we'd entered. We'd rendezvous outside the village as planned. We moved toward the exits, but before one of us could so much as take a breath of fresh air, a glowing blue light filled the room. The light stunned the other three, but I kept moving toward the door. Just as I opened it, the light flashed above me and knocked me flat on my back. I tried to get up, but I was trapped – not by any brute force, not by a paralysis of my limbs, but by an assault on my emotions.

"The blue light hovered above me, and any positive feeling I had left was being pulled away – happiness, joy, peace, satisfaction – all being sucked from my core. Only sadness, anger, frustration, hatred were left behind. These lesser emotions had already dominated my being for the last several years, but now that they were left utterly alone in me, without even a tiny spec of anything gentle or good to buffer them, they raged together to surely drive me insane and destroy me.

"But I am an empath, I can control emotion, so after recovering from my initial shock, I began to fight back. I let the anger surge forward and out of me, striking at the offending blue light. The hatred boiled up and over. As I pushed back at the light, it relented just a sliver, and that was all I needed to snatch back some confidence, faith, hope and bring them in, making me stronger. I don't know for how long this silent battle raged, but in the end, there wasn't a clear winner. The glow of blue slowly faded and then pulled back altogether and retreated, disappearing into the night. And I was left on the floor, gasping and sucking in all that I had almost lost. When I was finally able to sit up and gingerly pull myself to my feet, I saw that my soldiers were lost. Every one of them. They were lying in various sprawled positions, with the now too familiar expression of violent mental torture wracking each of their frozen faces."

A stone cold silence falls over the Survivors.

Alice lifts her hand to reach it past the idol and touch a comforting hand to her visibly shaken mate's arm, but on the way, she catches a glimmer of blue in the idol's crystal heart. She squeals and catapults herself off the sand in the opposite direction and lands in Alucard's lap, almost directly across the fire from Jasper.

She wraps a choke-hold arm around the red-cloaked vampire's neck for security, and thrusts her other arm toward the idol, jabbing a finger and shrieking, "Did you see it? Did you see it? B-b-b-blue!"

Alucard doesn't have a compassionate bone in his body, but as the tiny femme presses into him, helpless with fear, a bone of a different sort activates. When he glances across the fire and sees the contorted look of betrayal on Jasper's face, he clicks his sharp teeth together in an evil grin and begins stroking his sure fingers along Alice's shivering spine. He turns his voice into a soothing, seductive purr, and murmurs, "There, there, little one. Don't be frightened. Can't you see that he's just making up stories to try to scare you?"

Jasper blazes a furious glare on him and demands, "Are you saying my story is false?"

Hellsing's lead vampire looks coolly back at him while he flattens his palm and glides it gently over Alice's back. "I'm saying you've been reading too much Harry Potty."

"What are you talking about?" Jasper snaps irritably. The senile vampire is speaking in riddles.

In a bored tone, Alucard enumerates, "Your assailant hovers above you, pulling happiness, joy, and peace away, leaving you with only sadness, anger, frustration, hatred…you're describing dementors."

"De-what?" Jasper asks.

"Oh, yeah…" Seras chimes in, sounding excited at having made a literary connection. "Don't you remember? Prisoner of Azkaban, at the side of the Lake with Sirius? And the dementors are hovering above them and sucking out their joy, and Harry's feeling so sad and vacant, and it really looks like he's a goner, but then James conjures the patronus from the other side of the lake, except it's not actually his fathe-"

"Police Girl!" Alucard commands. "Thank you for making my point. Now please shut up."

"Yes, master," Seras replies meekly and shuts up.

"I must say," Walter comments, "there are remarkable similarities between the two perpetrators."

"Remarkable, except for the fact that one is _real_ is one is a FICTIONAL CHARACTER!" Jasper seethes.

"Yes," Walter says mildly, "you certainly do seem firm in your belief that the Asema was real."

Edward studies his brother and slowly nods. "I've seen this before," he says. "The patient takes something that made an impression on them – something they've read, or even an actual bit of another person's history – and commingles it with their own memories so convincingly that it becomes difficult to know what's real and what's fantasy."

"The mind…" Alucard says thoughtfully as he moves his fingertips to gently trace across Alice's forehead, "is a fascinating thing." His eyes travel tenderly over her face and a hypnotic power tranquilizes Alice as she stares into his entrancing red eyes.

"Look, I don't know what kind of research J.K. Rowling did, but I am NOT a patient, and Alice, get the FUCK off of his lap!" Jasper shouts, finally addressing what's _really_ getting under his skin.

Alice snaps free of the Nosferatu's trance and makes a move to get up, but looks warily at the idol in the sand and settles back down. The ancient vampire's nimble hand slithers over her shoulder, and he purrs, "That's right, sweet girl, I'll keep you safe and warm."

"Alucard!" Integra admonishes. At the same moment, Jasper yanks the blood wood idol from the sand and whips it into the trees with an exaggerated howl of frustration.

Alice cannot stand the sound of pain in her lover's moan. She fights all fear and pushes herself up and runs to him. Jasper folds her tightly into his stone arms, and she whispers her apology. Two seconds later, there is a thump in the sand at their feet, and everyone looks to see that the idol has made its return, like a boomerang.

Alice feels her cement-like skin prickle, but Alucard chuckles. "Figures," he says disparagingly. "You steal stories from children's books, and now you play with children's toys."

Keeping possessive arms around Alice, Jasper is finished goofing around with the undead playboy. "You would know about children, wouldn't you?" he challenges.

Alucard raises an eyebrow. His interest is piqued – this punk seems to think he has something on him. "Tell me," he says with a playful smirk, "why is it that I would know about children?"

"You make me sick," Jasper hisses. "How can you smile about it? You know damn well what I'm talking about. The Great War. The street children were coming to Carlisle for help, and you slaughtered them! You splattered the blood of innocent children for sport."

"Carlisle told us all about it, you despicable pig!" Rosalie spits as she speaks up for the first time since the fire started. She rises up onto her knees and levels a burning glare on him. Every lean, porcelain muscle is tensed and ready to strike if given the opportunity.

_Ah, what Dino could've done with a broad like that_, Walter thinks admiringly.

Everyone else merely watches the wicked vampire to see how he's going to respond. His mouth twists into something half way between a sneer and a snicker. "Is that what he told you? That they were street children? Well, what do you know - he is as stupid as he is weak."

All four Cullens bristle, and Edward speaks for the family when he warmly states, "Carlisle Cullen is the very best man who ever walked this earth! If by stupid and weak you mean compassionate and giving, then I can only hope to be that stupid and weak one day."

Even though he is speaking against her top soldier, Integra can't help but be impressed by Edward's passionate dedication to his father figure.

"Vampires like you," Edward continues with his golden eyes flashing dangerously, "could never understand a man like Carlisle, because you define strength by how much you can destroy. I've heard the story of how you murdered innocent youth for fun straight from Carlisle's mouth via Jasper's memories, and if Carlisle is the very best man, then you are the very worst."

Alucard scoffs dismissively, "Were there dementors in that memory, too?"

Jasper takes an infuriated step toward him, but Alice holds him back and Integra jumps up in defense of her vampire. "Stand down," she commands Jasper. "I understand that tempers are running high and that what Carlisle tells you is indeed heinous. But I have known Alucard since I was a young girl, and although his tactics border on the extreme, I cannot fathom that he would destroy innocent children for no reason whatsoever. It's simply not something he would do."

She is defending an unscrupulous monster, but still, Edward can't help but admire her intense loyalty to her servant.

"Furthermore," the Hellsing knight continues, "he has been under the rule of the Hellsing organization for one hundred years. Even if he were disposed to such antics, no one in the Hellsing line would have ever permitted such behavior, not even in wartime. And most certainly not my grandfather."

With her vehement speech concluded, Sir Hellsing turns to Alucard. Deep in her icy blue eyes, he sees something that is begging for him to confirm what she's just said. His master is pleading with him. He likes that. He likes that very much.

He won't disappoint her.

"It's true that Carlisle and I first met during the First World War. I was being prepared to run special operations for the British and their allies, and my master at the time, Abraham VanHelsing, discovered Carlisle working as an army medic. Carlisle was the first Unstet he'd come across, and he was naturally curious to learn all he could about this unfamiliar variety of vampire before he destroyed it. He became intrigued by what he learned of the Unstet – solid as stone and unable to change shape, bloodless but venomous. VanHelsing was only conducting research, but Carlisle batted his glorious Unstet eyes and lauded his 'vegetartian' lifestyle, and along the way he won the Dutchman over. And so, my master decided not to destroy him. Instead, he brought him into our fold to help in the secret wartime operations.

"At first I was elated. Even though Carlisle was of an inferior breed of immortal, the prospect of working with someone who was more than human was very appealing. It had been so long. With his heightened senses, speed and strength and all my considerable powers, the two of us should have been sent immediately over enemy lines to stifle the threat. This is what I pushed for, but no one would listen. Not even Carlisle. He sat there taking his notes and drawing his maps as if he were one of the humans. That was his problem – he wanted to pretend that he was still one of them, a mere human. He refused to accept, refused to embrace what he was." Alucard casts a sideways glance on his fledgling, Seras, as he says this and then continues.

"The plans were finally set and Carlisle and I set off with a small patrol of soldiers to bust up a secret meeting of enemy leaders in Belgium. But as was to be expected, the idiots in so called _intelligence_ got it wrong, and we were ambushed. Although we were prepared for any event, we were caught off guard by the intensity and strength of the attack, and we lost all of our men before I was able to effectively do away with the enemy.

"When I turned to Carlisle, who was on the ground repairing a leg injury, I saw a small group approaching him. Of course he saw them as children - he was looking through _human_ eyes," the No-Life king says, nearly spitting the word 'human.' Then he turns and pierces Jasper's tarnished bronze eyes with his now nearly glowing red ones as he delivers his blow. "They were _ghouls_."

Nobody moves a muscle as Alucard and Jasper stay locked in each other's gaze – Alucard's look is defiant, while Jasper's is disbelieving, yet somehow tainted with reluctant understanding.

Alucard's baritone voice emanates over the flames of the bonfire in a wicked chuckle. "They were freshly infected, but they'd begun the change. Their skin was already sallow and their eyes sunken. What was most troubling was that they were starting to grow ravenous. I could hear it in their groans. They were still human enough that they probably were asking for Carlisle's help, but there's no telling what would've happened once they'd latched onto the hand he extended to them. For all I knew, the Germans had spiked the punch enough to give them preternatural ghoul powers that would have given them the strength to gnaw through even stony limbs. And all the kings horses, and all the kings men, wouldn't be able to put Saint Carlisle back together again."

All four Cullens glare at Alucard through the dancing flames, but not one of them calls him a liar. They've known Carlisle for a long time. Long enough to know that his one flaw is a penchant for seeing the best in people, even when there's very little good to be seen. The menacing vampire in front of them is the only person they've ever heard him speak of in wholly unfavorable terms. Before they're able to process the revelation that the filthy children Carlisle saw may have, in fact, been transforming into ghouls, Alucard continues.

"The Germans had been experimenting with genetically-engineered warfare for years before any hint of conflict arose. You don't really think the Major was the first to do that, do you?"

"Who?" Alice asks.

"That's a story or another time," Alucard says ruefully. "The Germans and the Austrians built their armies any way they could. The men were used in regular forces, the women were used in any way that pleased the forces, and even children had their use. A select group of youngsters who wouldn't be missed by anyone - orphans and the like - were experimented on, and in the successful cases, turned into zombies. We faced a fresh batch that night."

"That doesn't make any sense," Jasper challenges. "Carlisle could easily fight off a gang of half-grown zombie wannabes."

Alucard answers, "Could have, yes, but would he have? My bet was _no_. His sympathetic mind would not have been able to overlook the fact that even though they were changing into zombies, they were still children. He would have thought he could save them. No, he'd never have been able to bring his pathetic self to do what must be done, so I did it for him."

All four Cullens are now on their feet and snarling at Alucard. They are finished with letting him continue to insult their father that way!

Alucard's lips stretch into an evil grin and his gloved hands twitch in eager anticipation. This is going to be fun. Without his turbo-Hellsing weaponry, it's going to be hand-to-hand combat, and the virtual indestructibility of the four Unstets before him is going to make the fight deliciously challenging. But Alucard doesn't doubt for a second that he'll prevail. His molecules are already tingling, ready to shift form into something suitable for tearing apart and crushing Vogue's version of vampires. He wonders if their skulls will sparkle as they implode.

Seras rises uncertainly to her feet, looking between her master and her new friends. She doesn't want to do this.

Alucard's not relying on his fledgling for help. He'll take down the two homos first and then the slut. He figures he can beat the sexy little one into submission…and perhaps convince Sir Integra to let him keep her as a pet.

Integra moves swiftly to situate herself between the angry mob and her property. "That's enough, everyone! Vampire – ur, _my_ vampire, not you lot -" she says, nodding to the Cullens and then turning to Alucard. "You'll need your rest for tomorrow. To your coffin."

Alucard's energized molecules pop and deflate as disappointment washes over him. He can't disobey this direct order. But he takes a moment to let his eyes burn steadily on the Cullen clan, and he releases a small wave of energy, causing the atmosphere immediately around him to visibly warp and remind the Cullens that they have no idea what he is capable of. He then bows to his master and says, "As you wish."

Rosalie is undaunted. As he walks away, she taunts, "That's right, wittle Ally-waley, mommy says its bedtime. Better scurry off now."

"That's hardly necessary, Miss Hale," Integra scolds.

"Ms." Rosalie corrects.

"_Ms_. Hale," Integra growls.

If Rosalie wasn't trying to build an alliance with this woman, she'd have a few more words for her, but the situation being what it is, she bites her lip and remains silent.

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**Footnotes:**

(1) Lyrics to 'Ring of Fire;' written by June Carter and Merle Kilgore; performed by Johnny Cash. You're welcome, MetroK :)

(2) Lyrics to 'You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves you;' written by Russ Morgan, Larry Stock, and James Cavanaugh; performed by Dean Martin.

(3) Ibid

(4) Lyrics to "Because I Got High;' written by Joseph Foreman; performed by Afroman. Hey, I had to do _something_ to de-fogey-fi this chapter :P

(5) Ibid

(6) Source: 'Rose by a Lemon Tree' by geophf (you can find it in my favorites), chapter - The Soul the Singer - I Scents; Venom. Danka geophfmeister for the education on Twilight vampire feedings. And also for the 'Harry Potty'

* Special thanks to Master of the Boot for being such a very good Alfred with his last minute input that led to great improvements on this chapter.

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**Author's Notes:**

Muchos Gracias to everyone who voted in the poll for last chapter. Just an FYI – Emmett won, er, lost rather, with 45% of the vote. Rosalie was a close second with 36%, and then Edward with 18%. Jasper's apparently a popular dude, or at least harmless – he didn't get any votes!

There's no chance to vote anyone off the island in this chapter, but I have set up another poll for you. There is eventually going to be some serious lip-lock between two of the remaining Survivors. (Sorry, but I'm a chick, and I seem to be only able to make it so far in my stories without something like this happening.) And no, I'm not talking about Alice and Jasper. So, I've set up a poll with six different pairings – please stop in to vote for the duo you'd most like to see kiss. NOTE: The result of this poll will have no bearing whatsoever on whose lips actually meet. I just want to see what you most desire for my own, evil pleasure. :3

Thanks always for reading and reviewing. I am overwhelmed with happiness at your enthusiasm for this story! :D


	9. The chapter you won't see coming

Chapter 9

The chapter you won't see coming

Jeff stands with his hands resting on his camp shirt at his waist. He stares intently toward the forest as a few splotches of a new rain drop onto him. He and a cameraman are on the beach next to six folding chairs. They are set in a straight line, side by side, with the seats of each alternating the direction in which they are facing. Kind of like with Musical Chairs. Interesting…

Six vampires and two humans are making their way through the jungle toward him. No one would recognize them as the same group that arrived on Vampire Island only five days ago. They're not only unbathed and dirty, but the vampires – the Cullens at least – are growing deep, purple circles under their eyes. Even the Hellsing vampires have something more…more ravenous in their appearance. Somehow their gums seem to be receding, their teeth growing longer. And the humans are even less recognizable. Walter's thick face is now covered with a thick growth of salt and pepper stubble that is close to bursting into a full-fledged beard. It gives him a rugged, brawny appearance. Integra is noticeably thinner. Her clavicle bones jut out in the wide V of her open blouse, and her pasty white legs are sticks beneath her trousers, which have been ripped into Bermuda-length shorts.

The sky has been grey all day, and the contestants hear moisture begin to slap at the leaves above them. The canopy works like a giant umbrella. But Alice and Seras have not lost their playful spirits. They're flitting off from the straight path to the main beach in order to catch nearby woodland creatures and bring them back to show each other. They're having a contest to see who can find the cutest animal.

Little Alice leaps onto the path in front of the group with a hundred pound pile of shaggy brown fur spilling over her toothpick arms. The pile of fur is squealing and wriggling in fear, but Alice's iron arms have it clamped securely in place. "I'm not gonna hurt you little fella," she says soothingly to the thing that's only a few ounces shy of her own weight.

"Oh God, Alice, I thought the objective was to be cute?" Rosalie gripes.

"He is cute," Alice says, turning to put the animal's stunted, leathery snout toward Rosalie so the bombshell can see how cute he is. Rosalie jerks her head back just as the thing starts squeaking out a moist-sounding whistle.

"Aww," Alice coos.

"What the hell is it?" Jasper asks. "Some kind of forest pig?"

"Capybara," Edward answers. "It's actually a member of the rodent family."

Jasper chuckles, "Now that's what I call an R.O.U.S."

Alice and Rosalie laugh. Edward rolls his eyes.

"A what?" Integra asks.

"R.O.U.S. – Rodent of Unusual Size," Edward explains, eager to show off to the Hellsing knight his knowledge of…everything. He doesn't need to tell her that he only seconds ago gleaned this information from Jasper's mind. "Haven't you ever seen the Princess Bride?" he chides.

"Sorry, I've been a little too tied up running an entire organization and ridding the world of undead filth to watch fairy tales," Integra responds. She'd tried to play it off as light banter, but she can't keep the tiny touch of bitterness out of her tone, and Edward immediately feels guilty…and a bit inadequate.

Alice nuzzles the rotund creature's fur, inciting a new round of squeaking, and says happily, "I'm gonna call you Rousy."

Just then Seras jumps back into the line to show her latest capture, which she holds clutched to her breast. It's a small cat, an ocelot, with spotted fur and big, round eyes. The kitty gives a fierce little mew, and no one can resist moving closer to fawn over it. (1)

"Sorry Allie," Jasper says, grabbing a webbed foot of the forest pig, "I think Rousy just got PWND."

Just as Seras stands a little taller with pride, Alucard decides to enter the conversation. "Police girl," he drawls. "I made you a Nosferatu so you'd have unimaginable powers, not so you could woo small forest animals into playing with you." (2)

The fledgling's shoulders slump, just a little, and she says, "Right then, guess I'll return this to where I found him."

"I'll come with you," Alice offers. "Rose? Wanna give Rousy a kiss goodbye?"

"Keep walking, sister," Rosalie instructs, and Alice and Seras disappear back into the forest.

The girls walk a good distance from the path and set their furry bundles down and watch them take off into their natural habitat. Alice sighs regretfully, because as cute as she thought Rousy was, that hefty pig-rodent was loaded with warm, flowing corpuscles that would've felt like heaven flowing down her throat. As they make their way back to the others, Seras says glumly, "Well, I guess this is it for the friendship, huh?"

"What do you mean?" Alice asks.

"Well, after this challenge we'll go back to camp and everyone will start scheming for the vote, and we're on opposite sides, so…"

Alice gets that disturbed crinkle between her eyebrows. "But you never know what can happen. We've got lots of votes before it'll come down to one of us."

"Alice," Seras says very seriously, stopping to look at her. "I won't write your name down. I don't think I could."

Alice smiles. "Seras – I won't write your name down either. No matter what."

Seras's face lights up. "Seriously?"

"Promise," Alice says and sticks her hand out. "Shake on it."

Seras grasps Alice's stone hand in a vice grip and they vigorously shake on it. Then an unusual stench catches Alice's attention. "Do you smell that?"

Seras sniffs the air, "Ew, yeah. Smells like…ghoul."

They sniff the air like forensic scientists and arrive at a nearby pile of brush. Underneath a few dried leaves, they see a grayish mass. Seras reaches down and pulls up a hunk of decaying flesh on bone. It's a leg. A leg of something fairly large, bigger than Rousy. A jaguar perhaps? Or a small burro? The decay is so advanced, that it's difficult to tell what it's from. Alice covers her mouth as the foul smell wafts toward her, but Seras seems undaunted. "This looks like the leg of a ghoul…and ghouls are created by the bite of a Nosferatu. It's what happens to our victim if we don't either absorb all of its blood, taking its soul into us as a familiar, or devour the entire body." Seras is growing in agitation as she reports all this to Alice, and she is now shaking the leg in Alice's face.

"Okay, okay," Alice says, putting a hand in front of her face to avoid being smacked by the slimy, grey meat. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that my master has been breaking the rules! He's been eating these darling island creatures behind our backs!" Happy-go-lucky Seras is officially pissed off. "For once…for ONCE he's been asked to behave like a CIVILIZED creature, and he can't do it. But I know he CAN do it! Of course he can do it – he can do anything! But he won't do it. He won't…give _me_ the satisfaction." Seras stands with her arms crossed, the putrid limb sticking out from behind one, and is tapping her foot, lost in her angry thoughts.

"You think he's been feeding on the indigenous animals?" Alice asks, her eyes sweeping back and forth for the cameraman, hoping he's not catching the vampire's infraction on tape. They don't need to be bombarded by overzealous animal rights activists upon hitting the mainland. But the cameraman is nowhere to be seen. Now that Alice thinks about it, the cameraman hasn't been anywhere to be seen for a while.

"I KNOW he has," Seras spits and takes off through the forest, heading toward the others. When she gets back to the path, she is angrily waving the smelly, icky mass back and forth. A flap of skin rips further from the bone, hanging in a long, ragged strip. She steps straight up to Alucard, shoves the limb in his face, and demands. "What is this?"

Alucard flicks his red eyes at it and declares, "It's a disgusting bit of one of your beloved pets."

"Look closer," Seras hisses with her eyes narrowed.

Seras doesn't get irate and domineering like this very often, but Alucard rather wishes she would. Her face and bosom flush the most appetizing shade of pink and her small mouth is pulled up into the most delicious looking pout. _She ordered_, he figures, _I shall obey_, and he looks closer.

"Not _there_," she seethes through clenched teeth. "HERE!" she screeches and throws the leg barely an inch in front of his lecherous face.

He examines it and says matter-of-factly, "Looks like the fallen appendage of a ghoul. Why are you getting your panties in a twist over it?"

Seras is taken back by his nonchalance and begins to doubt herself. "Well, w-w-well, what was it doing out there? Only you and I can create such a thing, and it bloody well wasn't me, so…so…"

"So…it's a remnant of the feast we had at the merge. I'm a messy eater and one of the monkeys must have carried this off into the forest," Alucard explains.

"Alucard," Intgra says, stepping into the squabble with concern. "You have to be more careful. You know that there are consequences to everything you do."

Alucard scoffs. "What? Are you afraid of this?" he asks, pulling the leg out of Seras' grasp and taunting his boss with it. "Even if it mobilizes, what's it going to do? Stomp you to death? I'm fairly certain you can outrun it, master," he says with an ironic twist to his lips. (3)

"That's enough, Alucard," Integra scolds. "The point is, we cannot afford any sloppiness anywhere. This is not to happen again. Is that understood?" she asks.

"Yes, master," he answers and flings the corpse segment back into the forest with a malevolent look toward Seras.

* * *

The group sets foot on the beach just as the skies open.

"Come on in guys," Jeff says in greeting "Ready for today's challenge?" Other than raising his voice to be heard over the din of the sudden downpour, nothing about the weather appears to affect the tenacious host. Various nods and 'yep's go around, and Jeff continues. "No more freebies for Hellsing. You're all competing for individual immunity today. And we're playing a little something called Musical Chairs." He surveys the surprised and confused faces and says, "That's right – straight Musical Chairs."

"I haven't played this for almost a hundred years!" Alice chirps excitedly.

"If you don't remember the rules, it goes something like this," Jeff explains. "You walk around this row of chairs while music plays. When the music stops, you sit down in a chair, but there aren't enough chairs for everyone, so if you don't get your seat in a seat, you're out of the game. Easy enough?"

"Music?" Edward questions. The only music he's heard since arriving at the island has been the garbage that's mentally played in the others' heads.

"I thought you might be wondering about that. Gentlemen," Jeff says with a nod towards a set of trees from where four native Brazilians step out. Two of them hold wooden pan flutes, another carries a barrel shaped drum and the fourth holds an enormous umbrella over them. "These are your musicians. So come on over, Survivors, and form a line in front of the chairs. You'll notice that we have eight contestants, but only six chairs. Two of you will be out this first round. Survivors ready?" Jeff asks, and with no response in the negative, he gives a nod to the musicians, who start playing.

A cascade of gentle, high-pitched twitters over a low, guttural melody wafts out over the beach amidst the pounding rain, and it's as if all the natural noises of the surrounding rain forest have been set to music. The relaxing timbre of the instruments is an almost comical in contrast to the rigid tension of the eight Survivors as they cautiously circle the chairs and eye each other with great trepidation.

The chairs alternate the way in which they face, so each contestant drags their feet as they cross in front of an open seat and then speed up to pass the back of the next chair. They have no idea when the music will stop and need to be in the best position to grab a seat. Rosalie holds her arms out wide and flexed, blatantly ready to shove off anyone who gets in her way. Integra walks in something of a crouch, with her fists folded in tight toward her body, in position to throw a solid shoulder into anyone trying to stop her from gaining a chair. Even Alucard - Mr. I can take all you punks at once with my eyes closed, hands tied behind my back, and my dick in your mother's mouth – flicks edgy, red eyes back and forth between his opponents. All eight warriors are determined to be the grand winner of this children's party game.

The soothing music abruptly stops, and everyone leaps for a seat. Rosalie's ready arms don't raise in time to block an unexpected high clip from the red-cloaked arm of the seven foot Nosferatu Alucard. His forearm crashes into the side of her throat, and although the blow doesn't do any damage to her marble-like body, the force of it tosses her sideways, sending her voluptuous legs into the air. The entire island shutters when Rosalie crashes down and carves a deep crater into the wet sand.

In the meantime, Alice, Jasper, Edward and Seras have secured their seats. Just as Alucard sighs in satisfaction and begins to lower himself into the fifth chair, he witnesses the slower-paced humans duking it out for the sixth. Integra moves in to nudge Walter with her shoulder, but the butler throws a shockingly brutal elbow to her chin. His bony joint smashes into her lower skull, which snaps up with a loud crack as her teeth crash together. The strike sends her stumbling backwards. She fights valiantly to keep her footing, but loses the battle and lands flat on her British bum.

"Master!" Alucard shouts, stopping an inch short of gaining his chair and rising up to step to her aid. "Are you alright?"

Walter loses no time sitting down, and Rosalie takes the opportunity of the distraction to claw her way onto Alucard's vacated seat.

Integra is dumbfounded as she sits on the soggy beach and rubs her smarting chin. "Yes, I'm fine," she answers crisply as Alucard bends to one knee next to her. She is glowering at Walter. She understands that this is a competition, but for the love of England! The old man has serviced her every need since she was a young girl, and now he's ambushing her in a game of Musical Chairs? And why? They are playing for the same side, aren't they? Aren't they?

"I must've lost my head, Sir Integra. I do apologize. Please, take this seat," Walter offers politely while keeping his bony butt firmly in place. The rain rolls through his hair and molds the strands of his ponytail together so that it more closely resembles the long, skinny tail of a rat.

"Stay. You earned it," his boss answers and turns to Alucard, who is now standing and offering his hand. She presses her hand into his white glove and scolds him as she pulls herself up. "Now you've given up your seat, too, servant."

Out of the corner of his eye, Alucard can see Rosalie sticking a triumphant tongue out at him, but he can only be so irritated as a still somewhat unstable Integra keeps her hand in his and doesn't complain when he slips his other arm around her waist to steady her. They walk together to the loser section of the beach from where they can observe the next round.

Jeff removes two chairs and asks, "Survivors, ready?"

The music starts up again, a tad more lively this time. With twenty-five percent of their members gone, the odds just got a little steeper, but somehow getting that first round out of the way has served to relax the competitors. With her ability to see the future rendered useless by the last second nature of this challenge, Alice decides to make the best of it and starts skipping to the peppier beat. Seras giggles and joins in. They are like two kids whose mommies have let them play out in the rain storm. Rosalie and the boys relax their stance, too, but still watch everyone closely. A definite devil has crept into Walter's electric blue eyes, which appear almost to be plugged in when set against the muted backdrop of the gloomy day.

The music halts, and Edward and Rosalie swiftly take possession of seats, sliding a bit on the slippery surface of the wet vinyl. Meanwhile, Jasper slams inexplicably backwards into the sand. He lost his balance when his ankles locked together, almost as if they'd been bound.

"Hey!" Jasper shouts as he shoots up to sitting and watches Walter innocently jump into the seat that had been directly in front of him before he fell.

One seat is open, and Seras and Alice are standing in front of it, looking distressed. It's as if the two friends had planned to go to a one-night-only Jonas Brothers concert together, but there was only one ticket left.

"You take it," Alice says.

"No, I couldn't," Seras answers. "It's yours."

"But there's already two Cullens sitting and only one Hellsing. It's only fair to keep things even," Alice persuades.

"Oh, bu-"

"Sit, Police Girl!" Integra barks, and Seras's eyes shoot an apology to Alice as her curvaceous backside lowers obediently to the chair.

"It's okay," Alice assures her with a wink. "Jazz is out anyhow, so now I can kanoodle with him." (4)

Alice skips over to Jasper, who slowly rises from the sand and points an accusing finger through the lines of rain toward Walter. "You. You did something. I don't know what it was, but you did…_something_."

"C'mon, sweetie," Alice chides, patting the back of his waterlogged shirt and starting to lead him over to Alucard and Integra. "Nobody likes a sore loser."

"I'm telling you, hun," Japser continues. He twists his head and pushes his dripping, blond waves out of his eyes so he can eye Walter suspiciously as he walks away. "He's got some kind of power. I don't care what he said on his application; he is _not_ human."

"Down to four," Jeff announces as he takes away two more chairs. "Walter, Seras, Rosalie and Edward are all that is left. Gentlemen," he says with a nod toward the musicians, and they start up again.

Any lightheartedness from the last round is completely erased. Half of the remaining players will be eliminated within seconds of the music stopping again. There is no allowance for even the slightest misstep. The last minute nature of the game limits the effectiveness of Edward's ability, too. No one can plan ahead of time exactly where they'll be when the music stops, so looking into their minds is no use.

The music stops. What happens next is much too fast for human eyes to see, but don't worry – I have been given the powers of the narrator, and I will break it down in slo-mo for you: Rosalie and Edward move toward the same chair. Seras was in a good position to take the other chair, but she winces and steps back when she feels a slash at her forearm. Walter uses her pause to take the seat.

Just as Rosalie's spectacular rear is mere centimeters away from touching down, a miracle occurs. Edward could swear that he sees fine, barely visible thread-like wires shoot through the sheets of wetness to wrap around Rosalie's narrow waist, yanking her from the chair. He's not sure what he's just witnessed, but he thrusts himself into the chair first, and then observes his sister's fate. She is now planted firmly on Walter's lap in the other chair. Edward squints his eyes and sees the fine lines wrapped around his sister's stone flesh as she's pulled fast to the smiling butler.

Edward blinks water out of his eyes, and when he looks again, he doesn't see any sign of the wires.

Rosalie pushes off of Walter's chest and stands, spitting, "You miserable, old letch! What did you do?"

"I assure you, Madame, I don't know what you are talking about. Sometimes when two souls are inextricably linked, there is nothing anyone can do to keep them apart," the butler responds suavely.

Across the sand, Integra makes a disgusted face and looks sideways at Alucard, asking, "Have you been giving him pointers?"

Alucard shrugs and smiles approvingly at the butler's cheekiness. He's still angry about what he did to his master, but the old man is gaining points for infuriating the bimbo.

Walter smiles slyly as Rosalie huffs away. He never actually thought he had a chance with her, wasn't even convinced that he actually wanted one. He'd merely become temporarily smitten with her – it happened to him from time to time – and he simply wanted to know, if only for a brief moment, what it would feel like to have a girl like that perched on his lap, and to have her delectable intensity aimed solely at him. It was everything he'd imagined. And her being dripping wet had made it even better. But now that he's gotten his jollies, he's done with her. As far as he's concerned, she'll be the next to go.

"Seras and Rosalie join the others to watch the final round," Jeff announces. He pulls away a chair and says, "And then there were two."

Walter and Edward nod respectfully to each other. It would appear that their little alliance has scored a victory, but neither man entirely trusts the other, and so, the only way they can be certain of their safety in the game is to win this thing.

The music starts up again, and they move gracefully, if a bit jerkily, around the single chair. Each man lingers while at the open face of the chair and then quickens his pace behind it. Edward senses the smugness in Walter's thoughts, although he can't tell the specifics. But he's seen the thin wires, whatever they are, and is betting it has something to do with that. He wonders if Walter is perhaps some type of spider-man, and then chuckles to himself when he remembers back to before Bella had known he was a vampire. At one point she had hazarded a guess that radioactive spiders were behind Edward's special talents. But there's no time to reminisce, because the music is once again silenced.

In a brief flash, Walter's thoughts are crystal clear to Edward, and the Unstet jumps up a millisecond before the wires breeze through the segment of space where Edward's ankles had just been. While in the air, Edward grabs the back of the Hellsing servant's head and thrusts him away from the chair and face first onto the beach. The stunned butler lands with his mouth gaping open and eats a truckload of wet sand. Edward lands gracefully in front of the chair and flashes his brilliant smile before lowering himself to sit back in self-satisfaction with his hands folded behind his head and his feet kicked out into the sand, crossed at the ankles that Walter had intended to bind.

"Edward wins immunity!" Jeff announces, throwing his hands in the air. Watching the excited flash race through Probst's eyes every single time he makes that announcement just never gets old.

Walter pushes himself up and gags as he spits sand out of his mouth. Edward tosses off his cocky pose and goes over to pat him on the back. "Good game. Sorry it got rough there at the end."

Walter tries to say something, but all that comes is a sputtering cough. Alice and Jasper rush over to congratulate Edward, but the others stay put. They are all trying to determine their next move. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, but the thick, grey clouds above stay as murky and mottled as everyone's thoughts.

Integra is deeply troubled by Walter's betrayal during the challenge.

Edward has been seriously considering Walter's proposal for a two-man alliance, but now he isn't so sure.

Walter is furious with himself for revealing his sneaky nature without even gaining an immunity idol to show for it.

Rosalie doesn't like the growing closeness of Seras and Alice. Would it be better to break those two up now instead of proceeding with the all-girls alliance?

Alucard sees Rosalie's manipulative wheels constantly turning and knows that she is dangerous to keep around.

Seras frets about what she'll do if Sir Integra orders her to vote out Alice.

As Alice hands the idol to Edward, who she trusts implicitly as an ally, she nevertheless feels the loss of security that comes with the possession of the frightening figure.

With the growing camaraderie between his wife and the pretty, young European vamp, Jasper thinks it might be fun to have a night alone on the island with just the three of them.

Jeff interrupts their various thoughts with, "Before you head back to camp, we've got something special planned for you." He gestures toward the edge of the beach by the trees and they all turn to see a giant TV screen perched high up in the trees, facing the beach. No one can remember having seen the screen earlier; it appears to have come out of nowhere.

All four Hellsing's jump at the sudden appearance of the TV. Three Cullens are also startled, but Edward gazes sentimentally towards it with what would surely be misty eyes if his rigamortized body was capable of manufacturing tears.

"Edward, what's up?" Alice asks.

"This must be the 'letters from loved ones' episode," he explains. "Instead of getting letters, we're going to get to see snippets of videos sent from home. But since I won, I'm going to get to watch the whole thing."

"Oh, Edward!" Alice squeals, clapping her hands together. "We're going to get to see Renesmee!"

Edward nods silently and stares at the screen, not daring to so much as blink, because he doesn't want to miss a millisecond of his daughter. Even Rosalie's stone cold face softens and warms at the thought of seeing her precious niece.

The TV screen blinks on, and there are indeed images of loved ones on the screen. But it's not Renesmee. It's Esme and Bella and Carlisle and Emmett. And they are upside down.

And they are suspended from a ceiling.

And they are bound by what appear to be titanium cables.

And their eyes are wide and frightened.

And their mouths are gagged with their Survivor buffs.

And…uh…yeah, it appears Emmett's gag is the very same buff that had previously been around his…uh…_you know_, which is now flying free, and he doesn't appear to be all that, er, _excited_ about his current situation. (5)

"Bella!" Edward shouts, dashing across the sand and scrambling up a tree to get to the television.

"Edward, halt!" Jasper commands in the overpowering voice he must have used with the troops under his rule in his former occupation. "It's just a transmission – you wreck the device, you lose the transmission. Now, get down from there."

Edward sucks in a calming breath and blows it out slowly. He looks directly into the screen in front of him and says softly, his velvet voice cracking ever so slightly, "Bella, love, my unbeating heart beats only for you. (6) When I find the person responsible for this, I promise you, I will force feed him his own intestines."

There's no reaction from the captives. They can't hear him. They simply hang and squirm, trying to find a weak spot in their apparently impenetrable bonds.

Edward reluctantly drops from the tree and walks back to the others. Alice wraps her delicate arms around him, as much to comfort herself as him, and Jasper claps a soothing, and perhaps controlling, hand on his shoulder. All three of them stare at the screen with a steely look of determination. With Edward calmed, the Cullens notice that Rosalie stands perfectly still, her fists are clenched into tight balls, and her eyes are fixed intently on Emmett.

You'd think that Alucard would be yucking it up at the Cullens' misfortunes, but he isn't. He's standing straight and alert, pulled up to his full seven feet. The light rain sends sporadic drips rolling off the edges of his red hat and onto his cloak. From behind his round glasses, his eyes seem to take in everything – the television screen, the Cullens, his Hellsing crew and Jeff. His pale, features form a sharp, serious mask, and his lips press tightly together; one corner of his mouth twitches. The silly game of Survivor was beginning to wear thin with him, and he looks forward to the next adventure.

Walter rolls his tongue around his mouth, trying to push the last grains of sand out. He's not going to get his boxers bunched up over what he sees on the television; he figures it's probably just some kind of stunt for ratings. Integra doesn't put it past the producers of the show to pull something like that, either, but her training has taught her to always prepare for the worst, so she's taking this at face value. So is Seras. She stands with her elbows back and her fingers subconsciously clenching open and shut; she wishes she were holding her long, turbo-charged weapons – then she'd feel better about facing whatever it is they're going to face.

As the intial shock passes, all eight contestants turn to the one person who can tell them exactly what it is they're facing. Probst. Their heads slowly turn, and eight sets of fierce, defiant eyes burn on their trusty host, who has remained standing behind them.

He holds up both his hands like stop signs and takes an involuntary step backwards. "All they told me was to turn the TV on. I swear to you: I had no idea."

Jeff has been on television for many years - as the Survivor host for a decade and Rock 'n Roll Jeopardy before that. He has a face for TV and the personality, too, but the man cannot act. His words sound completely rehearsed. No one is buying what he's selling, and they advance a threatening step closer.

"Guys, seriously," he says, struggling not to let his typically smooth voice rise to a high-pitched whimper. "It's me, the Jeffster…" He takes small steps backwards as he speaks. His body suddenly lurches to the left as he stumbles, his ankle appearing to give way. He tries to lift his leg to complete his step, but it is held fast to the sand. "Huh?" he grunts as his other foot begins to sink in the sand as well. He begins to thrash as he tries to set his legs free.

The eight contestants step up closer and form a circle around him. They fold their arms and watch him with dubious expressions. He's either messing with them or is truly stuck in the sand – either way, they've got him where they want him.

Probst stops his useless struggle and notices them all standing close. The rain has picked up again and is now coming down in pebble-sized drops. Without bothering to wipe away the water that is streaking down his face, he holds his arms out to Edward, who is directly in front of him. "For God's sake, help me!" he pleads.

Edward keeps his arms resolutely folded, and says, "Not until you tell me what's going on with my wife. Is this a joke? Because it's not funny."

"I swear to God, I don't know!" Jeff shouts, panic clearly taking over, as his body is jerked further into the sand to past his knees. His voice is a screech when he begs, "Just get me out of here before it's too la--"

Alice and Seras shriek.

Integra inhales so quickly, her throat makes a croaking noise.

"Holy shit!" Jasper gasps.

"Our God in heaven," Walter murmurs.

It's already too la--. Jeff is gone. The sand has sucked him completely away and the Cullens and Hellsings stand dumbstruck, gaping at the spot where Jeff had just stood, staring at nothing but a modestly disturbed stretch of wet sand. This is very clearly no joke.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Rosalie rushes to the spot where Jeff had stood and starts kicking at the sand. "No! No! We need him!" The only thing she reveals as clumps of sand fly around her is more sand.

"Rosalie, stop," Jasper directs. "It's no use, he's gone."

"He's right, sweetie," Alice coaxes. "The best you can do for Emmett is calm down so we can work together to figure something out."

As they all glance nervously back and forth at each other, mystified as to how to proceed, the television crackles, and a fleshy, duck-like voice speaks.

"Guten tag," it quacks.

All eight heads whip toward the huge screen. All they see are the four inverted Cullens. Every one of them remains stone silent, tremulously waiting for the next shoe to drop.

The speaker remains out of camera shot as it says, "Vell, vell, vell, is this anyway to greet a guest, Fräulein Hellsing?"

Integra stiffens, and Walter touches a protective hand on her arm.

"Oh, und Alucard," the voice continues, "you are looking, rather…eh, vet."

It suddenly clicks that the voice can see them. In three soggy steps Alucard crosses to the lone cameraman, who has been diligently taping everything, and rips the camera from his hands. He bares his knife-like teeth and plunges them into the camera. With a twist of the vampire's head, the protruding lens is ripped free and hangs in a jagged chunk from his mouth. Alucard then turns to the ocean and with a great heave tosses the bulky body of the camera out to the ocean. It sails away and disappears into the line of the horizon before making so much as a plunk into the water. Alucard then spits the broken lenspiece into his hand and holds a sharp, broken tip out toward the cameraman.

"You're next," he growls. The terrified cameraman tears into the forest faster than anyone imagined the chubby man could run.

The voice on the television chuckles with delight throughout the entire episode.

"You know this person?" Edward asks Integra accusingly.

The voice from the television answers for her, "The fräulein and I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting face to face, but I daresay you know something uff me from your vampire?" As he speaks, he steps directly in front of the camera, and the entire width of the screen is consumed by the wide mouth and chin of a portly gentleman over a white shirt and suit jacket and a narrow, black tie. The camera pans up to reveal a portly head wearing a pair of round eyeglasses. A shock of cropped, yellow bangs hang over half his forehead while the other side of his hair is slicked neatly away from his face.

Integra looks questioningly back at Alcuard, who is staring at the screen with recognition.

"It's him, sir," Walter murmurs.

_Damnit!_ Integra curses to herself. _Why did I leave my cigars back at camp?_

"Who's 'him'?" Jasper asks.

"The Major," Alucard answers stonily. "He's a madman that Walter and I dealt with back in World War II. Apparently he had so much fun with us back then that he's decided to come back for more. I'm glad you did, Major. I can't wait to destroy you again."

"Yes, vell, nice to see you again, too, Alucard. Now, I'm certain ve vould all like to get to the point of my little visit, no?

"Yes, do tell us your purpose," Integra demands.

"Purpose?" the Major asks in an amused tone. "To put it in the simplest possible terms, fräulein, my _purpose_ is a total absence of purpose."

"Stop talking in riddles, Stay Puft Marshmallow man, and get to the point," Edward seethes through gritted teeth. "What are you doing with my wife and family?"

The Major gives Edward's remarks no attention, and calmly states, "I haff taken over this game. Und I haff changed the rules. You are no longer playing for one million dollars. Those funds shall be used to further my research. No, you shall be playing for much higher stakes – the freedom uff these captives. You play the game, und they are freed at the end. You refuse to play the game, they are…extinguished."

"What do I care about their freedom?" Alucard snidely asks. "Our organization exists to rid the world of undead vermin like them. Get rid of them, and you'll be doing us a favor."

That's not exactly something the Cullens want to hear, but they realize that Alucard has shot a hole in the evil speaker's plans, so they stand by quietly, hoping to watch it all unravel.

"Dah, that is true," the voice says. "Und I suppose if you are no longer going to play the game, there vill be no reason for me to keep any of my boats or helicopters or anything that could take you avay und back to your homes around here. I suppose you have become very comfortable here, no? Und you vill enjoy an eternity on this island from which there is no escape for you, Nosferatu, who cannot cross the water. You shall stay here stranded…forever. Besides, Alucard, you know you enjoy the fight as much as I."

"We can swim," Alice pipes up petulantly. "Unstet can swim, and we'll send help. We have lots of friends, you know."

"Oh yes – your friends. I vas hoping someone vould bring up your friends. You do not think you vere the only ones seeking your fifteen minutes uff fame, do you? It's amazing what dangling un application und the chance uff making a complete fool uff yourself on television can do. Yes, it vas nearly as enjoyable as taking candy from a bébé." The voice takes on a gruffer tone as it loses patience. "Your friends haff been taken care uff. Everything has been taken care uff!

"But…why…why do you want us to play? What do you hope to gain? You already have the money," Rosalie finally speaks up, now looking more confused than angry.

"There are those of us, leipchen, for whom the means does not require an ends. It is merely the pleasure of war that drives us on."

"War?" Rosalie responds. "But this is just a reality show, not-"

She gets cut off when the intruder decides that question and answer time is over. "You vill play the game und that is it! Now, I suggest you confer und decide who vill be voted out next! Or else you can enjoy watching these four being dismembered und burned right before your eyes. The decision is yours."

Several glances are exchanged across the group, and Jasper is the first to speak. He motions for everyone to take several steps away from the television and speaks low, hoping to avoid being picked up by any microphones.

"Look, we've clearly got to cooperate through this next vote. That will buy us time to figure out what this psycho is up to and decide how to get us all safely out of this. So what we need to decide right now is who should go."

"I'll go," Edward says. "I want to be with Bella. Where I can protect her."

"You have immunity," Walter points out.

"Fuck immunity!" Edward shouts, dropping an f-bomb for the first time in his existence. He turns toward the TV screen and says loudly, holding up the idol, "I relinquish my immunity, and request to be voted out."

"You cannot relinquish your immunity," the voice calls out. "You haff it, you are stuck with it."

"I can give my immunity away to someone else at Tribal," Edward calls out. "No one ever does it, except that moron Erik, but it's always offered as an option."

"My game, my rules," the voice says with finality.

Edward exhales in frustration, and Alucard offers in a low murmur, "I'll go. I'll tear that bratwurst to pieces before he even knows I'm there. I'm the one he's here for, anyhow."

"No," Jasper whispers decisively. "I think it's best to operate under the assumption that whoever leaves the island will be rendered just as useless as those four. It's true that the enemy no longer has the element of surprise on their side, but this operation has clearly been very carefully planned. They are prepared for any foreseeable contingency. So no disrespect to you, Alucard, but I'm certain they'd be ready for you.

"Any hope we have is going to have to come from the island. We need to keep our strongest players right here to improve our chances of overtaking the enemy. I recommend we keep Sir Hellsing for her experience in tactical leadership. I am also an asset in this area. Although it's been several decades since I've acted in this capacity, I've found that the commander in me has remained, dormant but ever ready when called upon."

No one challenges him on this statement. They've all noticed the remarkable change in Jasper since the first hint of trouble, how he's stepped out of his laid back, slacker persona and taken on the demeanor of a born leader.

"Edward has immunity, so he stays. I further recommend we keep the two Nosferatu. I think we'll have a stronger team if we are made up of varying talents and capabilities." Jasper hesitates and looks regretfully at his wife.

"Alice can see the future," Edward says quickly in a harsh whisper. "She adds something to the pool of assets."

Alice sadly shakes her head. "No, Edward. I wasn't thinking about it around you, because I didn't want you to see it as a weakness to exploit in the game, but Jasper knows that I've had a definite weakening of my ability since arriving at the island. Remember how it took forever for me to see that Bella was voted out…and I was never even able to see Carlisle." Alice looks down and taps her toes self consciously in the sand and says, "And I certainly didn't see any of this. So, Jasper's right," she sighs. "I'm expendable."

"Me, too," Rosalie murmurs. "I'll gladly go to be with Emmett. But I'll also stay to wreak havoc on this island if that's what you want."

"Okay, good," Jasper whispers. "So that leaves Walter as the only other option. And I'd like to add that if anyone has the potential to surprise them on the other side with unexpected, dirty tactics, it's probably Walter. Can we all agree that our choices are narrowed down to Alice, Rosalie, and Walter?"

"Agreed," Integra says in a hushed tone. "Completely agreed. Let's get this decision made and this vote over with, so we can begin preparations for war on Vampire Island."

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**Footnotes:**

(1) Can't get enough of ocelots? Check out Master of the Boot's story "Over the Top: Terror on Gay Street." It's an action packed laugh riot.

(2) Alucard's reprimand of Seras for playing with fuzzy animals is a verbatim quote from System Aurora – thank you m'dear!

(3) Alucard's remarks regarding the potential danger of the ghoul limb are based on random, hilarious comments by Metropolis Kid.

(4) I owe the inspiration for Seras and Alice's love-fest during the challenge once again to System Aurora's fabulousity

(5) My apologies to Tzuki no Rekuen, who had hoped to never have to see Emmett in the buff again. I sincerely hope you removed all sporks from your house before reading that scene. To everyone else – you _know_ you liked it!

(6) Credit for the unbeating heart drivel goes to fanfiction author geophf, although I don't know why he'd want credit for it - it's really awful, isn't it?

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**More Author's Notes:**

You like?

Special thanks to Weak Chan for her amazing diligence and the time she takes to post-beta my work and set me straight on grammar and canon and lots of other valuable things. She has also honored me with the name, LiLa Chan - I lourve it!

Thanks as always to Master of the Boot for his endless input and support for this story – you really outdid yourself this time, Alfred!

The poll is up on my profile for this chapter. In case you didn't know, the vote is completely anonymous – even I won't know who's voted for whom unless you tell me. The poll will stay open at least until July 10.

The Hellsing/Twilight crossover kiss poll has concluded! Much thanks to everyone who voted. That was totally fun! :D And the winner is…Alice and Alucard with 33% of the vote! Sorry geophforino. Now remember, this has absolutely no bearing on what's actually going to happen in the story. (i.e. I'm going to do whatever the hell I want. I usually do – just ask Fallen Monkey a/k/a FaMo a/k/a most wonderful sister in the whole world!)

Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing, thanks for favoritting, thanks for setting up alerts…aw shucks, thanks just for being you, you crazy knuckleheads!

-LiLa


	10. make new friends and keep the old

Chapter 10

The chapter in which we make new friends…and keep the old

The eight remaining contestants on Vampire Island study each other gravely. They've got an important decision to make. They must send one of their own to be strung up and dangled and possibly eliminated from existence.

"I'll go first," Rosalie says with determination.

Jasper gives his sister a level look, and says, "Do you understand what you'll be faced with?"

Rosalie nods stoically, but Alice jumps to her and clings onto her arm, pleading, "No, Rose, don't! It's suicide!"

"Then by all means, let's send her," Alucard interjects.

"Anywhere will be better than staying here, being forced to cooperate with _him_," Rosalie says vicously as she glares through narrowed eyes at the Nosferatu.

"It is true; we are going to have to all work together from now on," Integra states. "Since Ms. Hale and my vampire seem to be the least cohesive of our members, I think she is our best choice. Can we all agree?"

Everyone either nods or says 'yes' quietly, and Alice keeps her affectionate hands tightly clenched around Rosalie's arm. Edward walks over and wraps his hand around the back of Rosalie's golden hair and presses his lips to her forehead.

He pulls his lips back slightly and whispers, "Give Bella all of my love."

Rosalie's throat becomes choked with emotion for the first time in several decades, so she simply nods silently.

"Don't worry, Rosie, we'll be coming for you soon," Jasper consoles, and then turns and takes a step back to the television. "Our decision is made," he announces. "We're sending--"

"Tut tut," says the Major crisply. "You vill vait until ve haff a proper Tribal Council. The rules, Herr Whitlock, the rules."

"Whitlock?" Seras asks.

Keeping his eyes trained on the camera, Jasper explains in a murmur, "That was my human name and the name I kept until I joined the Cullens and adopted the surname Hale in order to pose as Rosalie's natural brother. How the fuck does he know my real name?"

"You vould be surprised at the things I know Herr Whitlock-Hale. Now about the Tribal Council, ve need a host, no?"

"The beach sort of ate our host, jerk," the tiniest vampire says spitefully to the enormous television screen above her.

"Ah, so it did. Vell, this vill not do. Herr Probst, Herr Probst," the maniac on the television calls. "You haff a job to do. Come." The Major sticks two pudgy fingers in his mouth and whistles, as if calling a dog.

Alucard chuckles under his breath. "He's gone completely bonkers. Walter, it looks like we did him some permanent damage after all."

But as he's speaking, there's a sifting, muffled sound behind them. Nine heads turn. In the exact same spot where their trusty host had disappeared, grains of sand are mounding up. It's as if hundreds of invisible ants are madly working to build their hill. The sand continues to push up and up, and suddenly five thin cylinders of sand, only inches long, burst through and begin flailing.

In a commanding whisper, Jasper tells the remaining Surivors, "Take position in a wide circle around the disturbance. At my signal, we attack."

They move to stand in a circle around the growing mound just as another set of tiny cylinders punch through, right next to the first set. Both sets the bust all the way out and appear to be legs on two flat crab-like creatures with thick, oversized tails trailing behind their bodies. The tails stay stuck in the sand. The crab things fall flat on the sand and begin pressing down.

"Now?" Alice asks.

"Not yet," Jasper answers, examining the sand all around them. "They're so small. There must be more. And we've go to know what's at the end of that tail first. I'm keeping my eye on those two. The rest of you watch the sand around you and sound the alert at any activity."

Everyone else looks around at the surrounding sand, and as they do, the two visible crabs jump away from each other and press into the sand again to hoist a pair of elbows up and out of the sandy pit. Wait……elbows? Did I just say elbows? Why, these aren't crabs at all! They are sand-caked hands and arms! And a beige, grainy head has popped up between them. A further push of the crabby like hands reveals a sandy camp shirt under the head.

"Mr. Probst?" Sera asks cautiously, with a note of hope.

The sandman makes no reply, but shimmies the rest of his body on the surface to the beach, and the telltale lumps of sand-laden cargo pockets on its shorts reveal that is, in fact, Jeff Probst.

The contestants all make another visual inspection of the surrounding beach, confirm that there are no more disturbances anywhere, and then watch Jeff as he rises to standing.

"Mr. Probst?" Seras repeats, but this time with concern. He doesn't look good. He doesn't look good at all.

The male vampires still tower over him, but the little fella seems to have added an inch or two of girth all around his body. And he's a monotone beige color from being caked with so much sand. He looks as if he's had a thick layer of sand paper adhered to every square inch of his body. He brings his hand up to wipe sand away from his eyes and opens them in slits, looking around at each of the contestants in turn.

"Are…are you oka-" Seras is cut off mid question by a horrible hacking noise.

A hole has opened at the bottom of the globe of sand that is the Survivor host's head, and he is coughing and spitting out sand. He bends over and rests his hands on his bent knees while his body violently convulses, racked with choking out the sand.

No one makes a move to help him. They don't know what the hell is going on around here and aren't about to be pulled into any trap. They all stand tensed and ready to jump on whatever requires jumping onto at a signal from Jasper. Of course, none of them happen to know exactly what that signal is – there hasn't been a lot of time to iron out the small details – but they're just kind of assuming that they'll know it when they see it.

Jeff's hacking eases and he begins to straighten, but before he's completely upright, a gurgle bubbles up his sternum, through his throat and out his mouth. He retches out a dark green, disgustingly pungent goo. Most of it hurls out of him and onto the beach, but a long, wet string stays connected from the ground all the way up to his lip.

Everyone watches the moist line of residual vomit, waiting for it to snap and drop to the sand. But it doesn't snap. It stays, long and green and glistening in the sunlight. Jeff doesn't seem to notice. He appears to be trying to steady himself after his spasms, breathing slowly in and out and not moving. The sight is disgusting and slimy and repulsive, yet no one can look away from this veritable miracle of phlegmatic resiliency.

Jeff regains his bearings. Oh goody - he'll stand up, the vile string of retch will snap, and this story can move on. Except he doesn't stand up. He purses his lips around the wet segment of his upchuck and starts sucking. At last the string finally snaps – but at the bottom, just an inch or so above the ground. The rest of it is being pulled slowly but surely, inch by inch, back into Jeff's mouth. He slurps, and he sucks in the slime, and the eight remaining Survivors stare on in horror at what they are witnessing. Each and every one of them can smell the sour, acrid substance and know very well what it must taste like. They cringe while they watch their previously sane host willingly suck it into his mouth.

He slurps the last bit, snaps his head up straight and smacks his lips together. "Mmm, yummy," he says quite sincerely.

Something clearly ain't right with Jeff.

"Ah, yes. I see it verked," the Major cackles with delighted satisfaction. "It verked, und you haff your host. Now onto the vote!"

"Vote?" Jeff says in an exaggerated fashion. "Vote? Ah yes – the vote! He wipes away a bit of sand and reaches into the breast pocket of his camp shirt and pulls out a stack of cards and a Sharpie. "Anyone got an urn?" he asks, looking around expectantly.

"I-I think I saw one over by where we were set up for Musical Chairs," Alice replies helpfully.

"Groovy," Jeff says and take steps towards the urn that is indeed wedged into the sand by the chairs. "Welp, follow me, and we'll get this vote party rolling."

"Um, d-don't you want to clean up or something first?" Alice tentatively suggests.

Jeff stops dead and spins around to face her. "Clean up? Clean up? What're you talking 'bout, toots?"

"I – I – uh," Alice stutters as she tries to think of a way to politely tell Probst that he's a mess.

He looks down at himself and says, "Oh, _this_. Sorry, sugar pop, ain't no way to clean _this_ up." He holds out one arm and takes the opposite hand to it and begins swiping quickly back on his forearm. A few shavings of sand fall off, but the rest stays. He holds his arms out as if presenting himself and says with a proud smile, "This is me now. I'm all sand, baby."

"A-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha," Major laughs from the screen. "Und so you meet my latest creation – the sand zombie. He is harmless to all but the smallest fly, but he is one-hundred percent loyal, und he has personality to boot."

"But he is not indestructible," Alucard says, swiftly stepping over to him and grabbing him into a chokehold.

"Not indestructible…" the Major concedes

"Holy Hell!" Alucard shouts as an electric jolt zaps through him, and he tosses Jeff away.

"…but very resistant," the Major finishes.

Jeff stumbles from Alucard's force, but stays on his feet and gives an innocent shrug of his shoulders as if to apologize for his apparently innate defensive ability to shock his predators.

"You can figure out soon enough how to destroy him, but it serves no purpose other than to entertain me. He can do you no harm, und if you destroy him, the game vill still go on. I just think it's more fun vith him around."

"Why thank ya, Major. That's awfully sweet," Jeff beams.

"Stuff it, Probst," the Major responds.

Alucard has recovered from the surprise of the shock and takes a silent step behind the new zombie. He's going to finish him off this time. But he's stopped when a pellet zings through the air and smacks him between the eyes. The pellet bores into his skull, releasing a cascade of blood from the resulting hole. As Alucard's eyes flick in the direction from where the bullet had come, one of them is taken out by a second, perfectly aimed pellet.

The eyeball explodes from the impact and the empty socket gushes more blood. Alucard opens his mouth, but before a sound can be uttered, his other eye is blasted away. The impact of the latest bullet causes him to take a step back, and now he throws his blood-drenched head back and opens his mouth wide, baring his sharp teeth, and belts out a maniacal laugh. Another bullet zings into his open mouth and halts the laugh for a brief moment as it pierces the back of his throat. The laughing resumes, but now it is a wet, gurgling that pushes gelatinous black and red clots out over his lips with each iteration.

"Aw, gross," Sand-Probst mutters as he backs away.

Walter whips out his wires and wraps them around the Sand zombie's ankles and wrists, binding him. Jeff wriggles and squirms, but he's effectively trapped.

Bullets riddle Alucard's chest, and his shoulders shake in hilarity at every new wound while he continues his wheezing, splattering laughter.

Jasper looks to Walter, Integra and Seras, and with a nod toward the incapacitated Sand-Probst says, "Keep an eye on him in case he's got some tricks up his sleeve. The rest of you, follow me." He leads Edward, Rosalie and Alice to the edge of the forest. The lone sniper is perched at the top of a palm tree, firing away.

The sniper turns his fire on them, but the bullets merely ping off their stone flesh. Rosalie, Edward and Alice spread out on the ground, and Jasper begins climbing, but before he's more than five feet off the ground, he sees a two-foot missile streaking down toward him, he drops from the tree, but as soon as he touches the ground, the missile slams down on him and explodes with such force that it blows a deep pit into the earth, a pit that sucks down the bits that Jasper has been blown into.

"Jasper!" Alice shouts and kneels down next to the hole. "I can't even see him!" she shouts to Edward and Rosalie.

"Ali-" Edward warns too late, just before another missile drives into Alice's back and sends her shooting down to Jasper.

"You mother fucker," Rosalie hisses and dodges a third missile that drives all the way into the earth. She grabs the trunk of the palm tree in which the sniper has roosted and begins violently shaking it. The hulking tree sways back and forth. The burst of fronds at the top – where the sniper sits – waves several feet in one direction, and then snaps back and speeds in the other. The gunman clings stubbornly to the branches, but his firing has come to an abrupt halt.

Everyone on the beach can hear the dull but massive tearing sound as the tree's roots snap underground. The tree moves more easily in Rosalie's infuriated hands, and at any moment it will be free of the earth, and the sniper will be a mere plaything at her mercy. But just before the last root rips, the sniper, with bulky weapons strapped to him, uses the momentum of the swaying tree to leap into the air. He flips in a perfectly formed somersault, and then straightens up and grasps onto the fronds of another tree, about thirty feet away from his point of origin.

It was a nice move, but the in-air flip was overkill. It was the act of a highly-skilled show off, and the cockiness of the move is not lost on Integra. She looks toward the tree in which the gymnast is hidden through narrowed, suspicious eyes. While Alucard pulls himself back together, the rest of the Hellsings and their prisoner have been watching the action in the trees. The Hellsings shrewdly assess the enemy and contemplate their next move while Sand-Probst, who's been quite docile since being lassoed, merely gawks.

The sniper had to abandon his remaining missiles, and they now fly haphazardly from the tree that Rosalie pries loose and clunk harmlessly to the ground. Rosalie turns the tree sideways and prepares to toss it at the assailant, but he clicks yet another weapon and shoots out a long, U-shaped bit that dips down in front of Rosalie and then swoops up and hooks around her neck like a collar. The force of it lifts her into the air and slams her into a tree that bends all the way back and nearly snaps. The device's sharp ends pierce into the tree trunk and hold Rosalie, trapping her with her feet dangling several inches above the ground. She thrashes to get free, but this sniper knows what he's doing, and the u-shaped device holds her tight.

She begins kicking with her heels at the tree trunk, and it's already starting to splinter. She's going to get free one way or another. Meanwhile, Edward, has stealthily climbed up into the canopy of trees and snuck up behind the lone gunman. He's very close and about to jump onto his back, but a piercing, terrified scream issues forth from the television that causes him to freeze in place.

"Edward!" It's the voice of his beloved, and she's in peril

Edward stays in position in the trees but his head snaps toward the television. The screen is up the tree line and angled so that Edward can make out the vision of the Major with a chainsaw, standing directly next to Bella.

"Yes, dear, that vas good. Danke schön," the Major says and stuffs the buff back into her mouth. "Herr Cullen, I recommend you come down from there now und leave my soldier unscathed, unless of course you vould like to see me cut your wife into bite sized morsels, and then make a shish kebob of her.

Bella's upside down eyes open wide, and she pleads with them. Edward can't deny those eyes. He never could. He drops from the tree and stands in front of the television.

"Very good," the Major praises. He continues looking up at a monitor, or more likely a set of monitors, that apparently show him what is going on at the beach. Rosalie is still struggling at the tree, there is no sign of Jasper and Alice, Alcuard is _still_ putting himself together, and Walter, Integra and Seras stand weaponless. The coast looks clear enough to the Major, so he sticks two fingers in his mouth and blows out his loud dog whistle.

The sniper drops from the tree and lands easily on both feet like a video game hero. He's at least a couple inches over six foot and a solid two-hundred plus pounds. He wears a pair of dark blue cargo pants and a tight, black t-shirt. All around him – over his muscular back, around his thick thighs, across his tight waist - are strapped holsters to hold all types of weaponry and ammunition. He stands ready for anything with the muscles of his arms tensed and flexed, slightly bent at the elbows. His fingers twitch with readiness outside the fingerless black leather gloves that protect both hands.

Rosalie pauses in her struggle to take in the newcomer. He's not what she expected. A swatch of light brown hair falls over his right eye as he tilts his head forward and looks toward the group of Hellsings.

"Mr. Kennedy," Integra says authoritatively. "I thought that was you."

"Sir Integra," he says with a respectful nod.

"L-Leon?" Seras says, not at all steadily.

His eyes are slow to travel from Integra to Seras, and even when they reach her, he can't quite look into her baby blues. "Miss Victoria," he says in a soft, almost regretful tone.

"You know _him_, too?" Edward turns and grumbles incredulously.

"He did some mercenary work for us," Integra answers, not removing her gaze from Leon Kennedy and continuing in a scolding tone, "Now it appears he's lowered his standards and will hire himself out to anyone, even low-life Nazi scum."

Leon clenches his jaw and lowers his eyes shamefully to the sand.

A new note of bitterness creeps into Integra's voice as she says, "I suppose Mr. Mercer has joined you?" A powerful image rushes through Integra's thoughts, and Edward can't but be cognizant of it. It's a flash of a tall, lean young man, with disorganized dirty-blond hair, wearing casual, rumpled clothes. He's holding onto the curved handle of a long, thin sword that gleams as the young man leaps and turns in the air, swinging the weapon at his opponent. But Integra's not thinking of the opponent. She's only thinking of the young man with the oddly-glowing green eyes.

"No," Leon states firmly, but his eyes betray him and flick toward the television.

"Vat are you looking at?" the Major states irritably.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Kennedy answers insolently.

"I'm sure I needn't remind you of our arrangement, _minion_," the Major says in a threatening tone.

Leon appears to bite back a remark before responding through gritted teeth. "Let's just get on with this…_der Führer,_" he adds disdainfully under his breath.

Integra's throat appears to have gone dry. She takes an arid swallow and, looking directly at Leon, says in a harsh whisper, "They have him?"

Kennedy gives a slight nod.

Seras oddly seems relieved at this news. "Is that why you're doing this, Leon? They're forcing you to help them to save Zohall?" she asks hopefully.

He doesn't answer, but looks significantly at Integra. She returns his look and seems to read something in his eyes. Something that leads her to believe that if they can just get through this next vote, he will help them.

Alcuard makes an odd spluttering noise, and Integra's attention snaps to him. He's almost back to normal, but still has a few weeping sores in his throat and an eyeball that doesn't seem to want to stay in its socket. Sand-Probst nervously watches his rejuvenation and seems to want to make a break for it, but Walter holds tightly to his leash.

"Why is it taking my vampire so long to recuperate?" Integra demands.

The man on the TV answers, "Ah, yes, they said it vouldn't vork, but I knew it vould. The bullets were forged of stones from the grave of Saint Guinefort."

"Saint Guinefort?" Integra says doubtfully. "I've never heard of him."

The Major shrugs. "It does not matter. The bullets clearly have some holy value if they slowed your vampire's healing powers. I shall make sure to tell _that_ to Paladin Anderson when I see him next," he says and chuckles. "The important thing is, vat vill you order your vampire to do once he is fully recovered? Vill he be attacking my men, und vill I be severing and burning limbs here in retaliation? Tell me, Herr Integra, shall I fire this baby up?" Major asks with a loving caress of his chain saw.

Integra glances again toward Leon Kennedy, who with a subtle nod confirms that he is, in fact, on her side. "I shall order him to vote for Rosalie Hale at the next Tribal Council," she answers.

The Major cackles, "Excellent, excellent."

Rosalie has missed all of this as she's been preoccupied at the tree. She finally kicks the last splinters apart at the base and is free. Sort of. Her neck is still attached to the trunk, so she bends forward with the twenty foot palm precariously balanced on her back, the bulk of it protruding out past her head. Even with all her strength and grace, keeping the awkward load in check is no easy task. She takes slow, calculated steps toward Leon.

Edward redirects her. "Rosalie, no! The Major has a chainsaw ready to go if any harm comes to this man. Go join the others."

"A chainsaw won't even put a scratch on Emmett," Rosalie chides from her hunched position.

"Come on, Rose, you've already seen that these are no ordinary weapons. These guys aren't messing around. Now please, for once in your life stop being obstinate and do what I ask. For Emmett."

Rosalie releases a frustrated growl, and gingerly turns the palm to face the group of Hellsings on the beach. Being called off her prey is bad enough, but now she's forcibly aware of how ridiculous she must look as she ambles toward the group like some kind of bikinied lumberjack.

By the time she reaches them, Alucard has completely healed. "Oh, you poor thing," he says in overly done sympathy. "Here, have a seat." He grasps the palm trunk, pulls it upright and jams the splintered end into the sand, forcing Rosalie to slam down onto her pretentious bum. It's no accident that she's landed directly in the slimy green pile of Sand-Probst's expulsion.

Edward becomes aware of Alice and Jasper's murderous thoughts as they've reassembled themselves and are now near the top of their hole. He rushes over just as they emerge and says, "Calm down. Don't do anything. If we touch the gunman, the Major stands ready to dismember Bella and the rest."

As Alice and Jasper climb out, Jasper argues, "We're not just going to surrender. No war was ever won by surrendering!"

Edward lowers his voice, so that only they can hear. "It won't be a surrender. The Hellsings know the gunman, used to work with him. He's being forced to work for the Major, but once we get this first vote over with, he'll help us. I can already see the plan formed in his mind."

"It's just a trick, Edward. He obviously knows that you'll be scanning his thoughts," Jasper counters.

"No," Edward answers with solid conviction. "They have his friend, too, just like our family. He wants to save him. And Integra trusts him. She agrees with me. Now, I know you led armies of men and newborn vampires, but you have to admit that Sir Hellsing has more experience dealing with this kind of enemy. I think we need to go with her gut on this one. We play nice for this vote, and then escape and rescue the others."

Jasper doesn't like it, but he doesn't see a better alternative at the moment. Taking down the gunman and Probst isn't going to get them anywhere. They have no idea where the television transmission is coming from and would still be helpless to save their loved ones.

Edward stares hard at Jasper, sees his resignation, and says, "Good. Let's join the others and do this."

The eight contestants reconvene on the beach, right where they started their discussion of the vote. Only now they are joined by a sand zombie and have a heavily-armed guest.

Jeff lifts his tied hands as far as his bonds will allow and looks expectantly at Walter, waiting for him to release his wires.

"Forgive me, sir, but given the circumstances, I think it best to keep you bound for now," Walter says.

Jeff responds with a wide, condescending smirk. Surely the Major isn't going to allow his latest pride and joy to be treated this way.

"Ya. That is a good idea. He is still new und ve haven't vorked out all the kinks," the Major ruminates aloud from the television.

Sand-Probst shoots an appalled glare at his boss, but there's nothing he can do about it. Luckily, he still holds the white cards and Sharpie in his hands; it'll make this process easier. He turns the cards upward and says sulkily, "Fine. Everyone take a card and pass the pen around."

"Vait un minute," the Major requests. "Oh, cameraman…"

_Oh, yeah,_ they all think as they remember the cameraman who had disappeared into the forest earlier. But that's not who the Major is talking about, and there's still no sign of him. Instead, Leon Kennedy begins patting around at his various pockets and holsters. "Son of a bitch, I know it's in here somewhere," he mutters. "Aha!" he says as he claps a hand on a big side pocket halfway down his right leg. He reaches in and pulls out a video camera.

He looks up and sees the nonplused expressions on the eight faces observing him and shrugs as he explains, "Hey, this is all that I was hired to do. You guys started it with all that shooting crap."

Leon begins nonchalantly filming, and the Major says, "Carry on."

Within a few minutes, Jeff is holding all eight cards back in his hands. He maneuvers his thick, sandy fingers to flip the cards one by one and read them off.

"First vote: Rosalie," he says and flicks that card in the sand. It's amazing how he sounds just like the old Jeff again as he reads the votes.

"Next vote: Ms. Hale." Flick.

He twists the next one up for all to see as he reads: "alucarD."

And the next: "Rose :(

"Rosalie. That's four votes Rosalie, one vote Alucard. Eight contestants left, so five votes will constitute a majority," he explains, once again helping the mathematically challenged.

He turns the card again and says, "And the fifth contestant voted out on Survivor: Vampire Island is Rosalie."

Rosalie still sits in the sand with her neck attached to the tree, but she holds her head of proudly, accepting her fate. Everyone looks at her, wondering how in the hell she's going to fit on the little boat for ousted contestants with that enormous tree attached to her, when suddenly the sand beneath her shifts. Rosalie's eyes open wide and she bend her legs up and makes an attempt to stand. The sand shifts again, and half her body, along with several inches of the tree trunk, is pulled downward. She's sunken in to her shoulders, and the calves of her legs have been thrown straight upward.

"Rose!" Alice shouts, and before anyone else reacts, Rosalie disappears. So does the tree.

The humans and the Cullens gasp while Jeff giggles. Alucard makes very little reaction. He's caught between delight at having her gone, regret at missing his last opportunity to rip her to shreds and wariness about what this could mean for the rest of them. A few seconds later, the tall, thin tree shoots up from the sand a good fifty feet in the air, seems to hang suspended in air for a few seconds, and then slowly leans sideways and descends to the earth with a powerful crash as it lands.

"You bastard!" Alice screams, turning toward the television. "What have you done to her?"

"Sir Hellsing," Edward asks, remaining calm with his eyes riveted on the spot where Rosalie had disappeared. "Is there anyway this sand zombie process could work on a vampire? Surely she's immune to it."

"I would think she'd be impervious; I've never known a vampire to be transformed into anything other than a vampire. But I don't know what kind of experiments this nutjob may have done. I don't know what he's capable of," Integra admits.

"When she emerges," Jasper says soberly, "we are going to have to treat her with the highest level of caution. She may still look like our Rose, but we are going to have to assume that he's done something to her until we have hard evidence to the contrary."

The sand remains still as they all watch in dreadful anticipation. But nothing happens.

"Vat are you looking at," the Major asks with poorly concealed laughter in his voice. "She is not coming back. Ve only need one host."

Jeff grins with the satisfaction that comes with job security. The others whip their heads toward the television screen, now expecting to see Rosalie strung up like the others.

"She is not coming here, either. You voted her out. She has been _eliminated _entirely. She no longer factors into this game," the Major explains. There is something very ominous in the way he said 'eliminated,' and the seven remaining contestants stare at the television with numb disbelief.

The stakes have just been raised.

.

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**End Notes:**

Leon Kennedy is from the Resident Evil series. (Ladies – if you're not familiar with Mr. Kennedy, do yourselves a favor and google up some images ;))

Zohall Mercer, an original character created by the incredible EZB. I'm afraid that I will not do justice to these gentlemen here, so to get a full dose of Zohall and Leon, read EZB's epic adventure, The Hellsing War Chronicles, which can be found either on his profile or in my favorites.

Full credit for the alucarD goes to geophf. Also, I originally read the image of Rosalie uprooting a tree in the inspired, My Sister Rosalie by geophf

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**Author's Note:**

Special thanks to these authors/readers/reviewers for the extra time they took to look over parts of this chapter for me and make helpful suggestions for improvement: _System Aurora_, _EZB_ (so lovely to have you back!) and _Master of the Boot_. They are not only smart and highly creative, but also tremendously fun to "work" with!

I am tickled to death to tell you that _Metropolis Kid_ has once again been inspired to write a one-shot that is tangential to this story. It's called One Froggy Twi-Night and can be found at his profile or on my favorites. If you enjoy laughing and like seeing Edward in uncomfortable positions, you should definitely check it out.

For another original and humorous take on Edward, check out another new addition to my favorites, Rainbow Zebra: An Ode to Vampire Bella by _Master of the Boot_. He wrote this one-shot as a gift to someone very close to my heart (we'll call her 'Little LiLa') and came up with an alternate version of Twilight that even - or maybe especially - die-hard anti-Twilighters can appreciate.

There, those stories should keep you busy enough that you won't even notice the long gaps between my updates…but thanks for being good to me anyways and always coming back for more. I look forward to your reviews with more eager anticipation than most psycho-therapists would probably consider to be healthy. Oh, and the poll results are available at my profile (for those of you who don't trust me *ahem* O_o). Thanks for voting!

-LiLa


	11. The chapter in which they are on a boat

Chapter 11

The chapter in which they're on a boat

A dour line of seven Survivor contestants and one cameraman make their way through the forest back to camp. The giant television screen had disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared, and Jeff shoo'd them off to camp. The contestants were more than eager to get away from him so they could make their plans to escape.

At the back of the line, Integra says to Alucard and Edward, "Well, what did you get? Mr. Cullen, I know you can read minds, and Alucard, you have your own gifts. What did Probst reveal? How do we get to this Major?"

Neither gentleman speaks. They merely give each other sideways glances, seemingly waiting for the other to speak first.

"Nothing?" Sir Hellsing practically spits, clearly disappointed in both of them. "Alucard," she demands.

The ancient Nosferatu shrugs. "Probst is an idiot. A mere minion; he doesn't know anything. Nothing useful emanated from him."

Sir Integra exhales with no small amount of disgust and speaks to Edward. "Surely he had to be thinking about _something_ during that time."

Edward pulls his eyebrows together as he recalls the Survivor host's thoughts. "At first his thoughts seemed to be primarily on bacon."

"Bacon?" Integra questions.

"Yes," Edward answers, "it seems the Major promised him bacon when he gets back."

"Gets back where?" Jasper questions impatiently.

Edward shakes his head. "I've no idea. He pictured eating it in some kind of a mobile home, but it could've been anywhere." Edward is as frustrated as Jasper and Integra -- his Bella is with the bacon. He must find the bacon!

"Well, if Probst is transporting back and forth from here to there, it can't be too far away," Jasper reasons.

"Bacon?" Integra repeats in bewilderment. "What else?"

"After Alucard tried to choke him and the shooting began, he primarily feared for his life."

Leon has been ghosting alongside the group. They've become so adept at viewing their cameramen as the scenery that they don't give him much thought until he signals to Seras from behind the camera. He knows she's been surreptitiously watching him when she thinks he's not looking. He seems to be motioning for her to get behind him. She wants to play hard to get, but his waving has become insistent, so she lets the rest of the line pass her and steps behind him. He stays silent, but now seems to be motioning for her to take the camera from him.

"Wha--" Seras starts, but Leon pulls his hand down and holds a finger to his lips to tell Seras to be quiet. Then he pantomimes again for her to take the camera.

She gives a quick glance to Sir Hellsing, who nods, so Seras reaches her hand out to take the electronic device. Leon very gingerly transfers it to her grip, so that anyone watching the recording won't realize that there's been a change. As soon as she has a good grip, he motions for her to focus on the contestants at the front half of the line. They're all watching Leon and Seras curiously by now, so Leon whips his hand in a swirling motion, indicating that they should talk amongst themselves to make things seem natural.

"Oh, uh, uh…" Alice stammers, suddenly at a loss for words now that there's pressure. She blurts the first thing that comes into her head, "So, why would a pudgy guy like the Major wear all white? Doesn't he know that black is more slimming?"

Walter and Jasper look at her and at first are at a total loss for a response, but Leon's hand is swirling again, so Walter quickly adds, "Yes, and it didn't do much for his pasty complexion, either." Alucard raises his eyebrow at him, and Walter shrugs.

Jasper isn't about to get trapped into talking fashion with his wife again, so he comments, "The sky is clearing, should be a nice night."

While the conversation safely spins in the direction of the weather, Leon slips his hand around Integra's elbow and holds her back while the others move forward through the forest. Seras continues following the group, but turns her head back toward Leon with a hurt expression. She'd been pleased at his attention, but now it appears he was simply using her to get her boss alone.

Alucard stays behind, giving Leon a menacing look, and stands sentry over his master. But Leon quietly warns Integra out the side of his mouth, "If too many people are missing from the camera shot, they'll get suspicious."

Integra studies Leon's face and then looks hard at Alucard. She wants him to rejoin the others

"But, Master…I don't trust him," Alucard protests.

"Of course you don't trust him, he just nearly shot your head off," Integra whispers harshly. But we've got no better options at the moment. Besides, I've taken on bigger threats than Mr. Kennedy; you don't need to worry about me. Rejoin the others."

Alucard levels a withering glare on Leon. "I'll be back at any sign that you're trying to pull something, and you'll be dead before the first drop of piss touches your Underoos," he growls, and then slinks back to the others.

Kennedy doesn't waste any time. As soon as the others are far enough away, he tells Integra, "Headquarters is on the mainland. You can get there by boat -- they keep one in a cove at the southern tip of the island. I can tell you how to get there."

Integra listens raptly to everything he says. While she listens, she's also closely observing him for any sign that he's being insincere in his desire to help them. So far, his help seems to be in earnest. She can't rely on Alucard to give an unbiased assessment of Leon's motivations, so she'll have Edward scan his mind when they rejoin the group.

"I'll film you until it's time to retire for the evening. Order Alucard and Seras to sleep at night, so they'll be on the same schedule as you. I'll show them getting into their coffins. When I film Jasper and Alice disappearing into the forest to get intimate, and Edward going off to write poetry or something, your vampires can slip out of their coffins and meet up with them. I'll also film you and Walter heading in for bed, and while you're in there, stuff your backpack and things under the blankets to make it look like you're under there. Throughout the night I'll put the camera on the blanketed forms and make snoring noises, so it's realistic."

"I don't snore," Integra corrects.

"Well, you haven't seen the tape from the previous nights," Kennedy says with a slight eye roll.

Integra exhales an offended grunt and restates, "I do _not_ snore."

Kennedy throws his hands up and says, "Fine, you don't snore, whatever. I'll make it look as realistic as possible while you guys make your escape."

"Why aren't you coming with us? You could set the camera up in a stationary position."

Leon shakes his head. "They'd catch on to that quickly. Besides, there's no way I can let them know that I'm a part of this. If things go wrong and they find out, Zohall is a goner."

"If things go wrong?" Integra questions. "What exactly could go wrong, Mr. Kennedy? What aren't you telling me?"

"Sir Hellsing, any number of things could go wrong. They know you're not the typical group of reality show rubes. They know very damned well you'll try to make an escape and that you're well equipped as a group to succeed. What they don't know is that I'm helping you. That'll give you a leg up, but it's not a guarantee."

"What kind of things will we be facing?"

"I have no idea," Leon says with frustration. "I've been informed of very little. This is a top secret operation, and everything is on a need-to-know basis. Are you set on what we just discussed?"

Integra nods.

"Here's a map to the boat, and another to headquarters. I'm going to go get the camera back from Seras now; you discreetly pull tribe members aside to fill them in on the plan -- far away from the camera. When nightfall hits, we put it into motion. Are we good?"

"Why are you helping us?" Integra asks. "Why not let the game play out and then leave with your money and with Zohall?"

"To be honest with you," Kennedy says, "I don't trust the bastards to let Zohall go when this is over with. But I trust you, and I trust Walter and Seras not to leave him behind once you rescue the others."

"And what happens to you? What if we get caught, and they realize that you've betrayed them?"

Leon smiles at her benevolent concern. "No need to worry about me, Sir Integra. You know I can take care of myself.'

"Yes, Mr. Kennedy, you certainly can." She reaches out and gives his arm a squeeze to show her appreciation. Leon winks and then he walks back to Seras.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon is spent with benign conversations in front of the camera while Integra pulls the contestants one by one out of camera shot to fill them in on the details of the plan. She spends the most time with Jasper. He's extremely suspicious.

"So you're telling me that this guy out of the blue just wants to help us?" Jasper challenges.

"It's not out of the blue. We've worked with him on some highly intricate assignments in the past. You don't go through something like that with someone without forming a bond. I know Mr. Kennedy better than some people know their own family members. We can trust him. Even if he'd throw me to the wolves, he'd never betray Seras. Their bond was especially tight."

Jasper has noticed the way the way Leon's eyes travel to Seras whenever they have the opportunity, and he feels the genuine tenderness there. But is that enough for him to trust him, to trust this plan?

"What do we have to lose by trying?" Integra asks. "He's already told me that they expect us to try to escape. What's the worst case if they catch us? They force us to play the game – that's exactly the position we're in now, so there's nothing to lose."

"That's easy for you to say when it's not your family who's being held captive. When you didn't just watch one of your own family members get sucked into the sand – he'll destroy them all!" Jasper spits. He, Alice and Edward have been trying to think the best about their sister's fate, but they can't ignore the possibility of the worst.

"What makes you think he's not going to eliminate them, either way? We can follow every one of his rules, and in the end he'll still destroy them and probably all of us, if we let him! If you want to give your family members any chance of survival, you'll try this. I certainly can't tell you what to do, but the members of my organization will be following Leon's map to the boat. You can get to the mainland whatever way you choose, or stay here and let them eliminate you one by one."

"That's not a bad idea…" Jasper murmurs, then he looks at Integra with a sly smile pulling at a corner of his mouth. "We'll split into two groups. You and your organization head to the boat, and me, Edward and Alice will jump off at the west of the island. We're expert swimmers and can go unlimited distances without tiring. We'll probably beat your boat there. And this way, if Leon is deceiving us, at least the three of us will make it."

Integra thinks about it. "Yes, that makes sense. Hedge our bets." Apparently she isn't 100% confident in Leon Kennedy's loyalty, after all. "Alright, you talk with Edward and Alice, and I'll inform my group of the change in plans. But as far as Mr. Kennedy knows, the seven of us are going to rendezvous in the forest and head to the boat together."

"Of course," Jasper answers.

Jasper and Integra work separately to inform the other contestants of the newest plan. Alucard is still skeptical of Leon, but he's anxious to go up against whatever the Major has waiting out there for him. He becomes even more fond of the plan when he learns that the Cullens will be heading in a different direction.

* * *

The sun sinks down below the treeline, leaving behind its orange glow. The Survivors are waiting for the fiery orb to disappear entirely before setting their plan into action. As the time approaches, anxiety runs high. Alice is still having trouble with her visions – she can't get anything on their captive relatives, but she did get a fuzzy image after Jasper and Integra finalized the plan.

As she told Jasper, "We're all going to reunite. I see the four members of Hellsing in a boat and the three of us popping up out of the water alongside them. We're going to make it to the mainland!"

They spread the word of her vision, but the stakes are high enough that it only does so much to calm their nerves. She didn't see anything about what happens once they reach the mainland. On top of this, they have the added strain of trying to act normal in front of the camera. Seras, Alice and Walter are currently entertaining Leon and the camera as they sit cross-legged on the beach, playing 'Truth or Dare.'

"Truth or dare?" Seras asks Walter.

"Truth," Walter says.

"Walter!" Seras complains, "You always pick 'truth.' It's getting boring."

"Well, perhaps you're just asking the wrong questions," he taunts.

"Hmm, perhaps you need to make things a little more interesting, Seras," Alice says, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

"Okay…" Seras says, trying to think of something scandalous. "Oh! I've got it. Walter, who was the first girl you ever had a crush on?"

Walter chuckles at the innocence of the question, and answers truthfully, with the slightest wistful quality to his voice. "When I was a mere lad of fourteen, I was smitten with a young, raven-haired beauty. That girl had spunk," he says fondly.

"Ooh," Alice teases. "What happened with you and this raven-haired beauty?"

"Romantically? Nothing," Walter sighs. "I learned some, erm, _secrets _about her, and things got rather…complicated."

"Aww," Alice comments and then claps her hands excitedly together and says, "My turn! Okay, Seras, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" Seras exclaims.

"Okay, decide who you think is the cutest boy on the beach and give him a kiss on the cheek – right now."

Seras blushes and bites her bottom lip.

"It's okay if it's Jasper," Alice reassures her. "You wouldn't be the only person on this beach besides me who has a thing for him," she says and rolls her eyes toward where Edward just tackled her husband into the sand during their game of one-on-one coconut football.

Seras summons her confidence and makes her decision. She silently gets up and walks away from them, just past the camera and then turns around and steps behind Leon. She rises on her tip-toes and delicately presses her lips against his cheek, which feels slightly rough from the stubble beginning to form there.

Leon holds the camera in place, but turns his face to look at her. She lowers herself down again and smiles sweetly up at him. She's had conflicting emotions ever since he made his appearance on the island. Last time she saw him, things had been rather…complicated, and she can't overlook the fact that he shot her master earlier today. But now that he's helping them, Seras doesn't want to be mad anymore, and that's what she just silently told him with that kiss. Leon returns the soft smile, and then Seras skips happily back to plop on the sand by Alice and Walter.

It's Walter's turn to challenge Alice. He's hoping she'll choose 'dare,' because he plans to make her wear Alucard's very unfashionable red fedora.

While they continue their game, Integra wanders down to water's edge. Edward notices and tells Jasper that he's going to go speak with her. He wants to go over the plans for meeting up on the mainland once again; he doesn't want to take any chances on a miscommunication, not with his beloved wife's existence on the line. He's relieved to discover that after the series of individual conversations throughout the day, he and Integra have ended up on the same page. In addition, Leon's thoughts have stayed consistent with everything the cameraman said to Integra earlier. So now the only thing to do is wait….wait to see what the Major and his crew have in store for them.

The only thing they know for sure about The Major is that he is insane. They have no idea what kind of booby traps he may have set up for them, either on the island or surrounding headquarters, or both. And even though they have super-strength and super-speed and numerous other super-abilities, it's extremely risky for them to walk into the unknown. Despite Alice's reassurances that the first half of their mission will be a success, it's very likely that not everyone will come out alive. The humans are obviously at the most risk. And while Walter seems to be keeping his mind off of the impending doom by playing his game with Seras and Alice, it weighs heavily on Integra's.

After she and Edward finish talking business, she grows quiet as she becomes absorbed in her thoughts. She thinks about the same things she always thinks about before heading into a potentially fatal situation. She's thinking about her regrets.

"Nobody's lived a perfect life," Edward says gently, recognizing for the first time that he's not the only one that's got something to lose here.

Integra continues gazing out at the sea. "I know," she says. "And I also know that I've been given more in this life than most, and should only be grateful. But having been rushed into my adulthood without much time for a personal life, there are some things, milestones, that I wish I could have experienced." Before she can push it from her mind, Edward sees the fleeting thought of a kiss.

Integra brushes it off with a shake of her head and looks down at the sand. "It's foolish and inconsequential."

"Don't apologize. Our desires are not something we can control. Believe me, I know," Edward tells her, remembering how no matter how much he tried to keep himself away, he could not resist that silly human, Bella Swan. The girl had been so self deprecating, so full of insecurities, and it had only drawn him closer to her; Edward was never one to shy away from playing the knight in shining armor. Now he sees that the strong, self-assured damsel in front of him is showing signs of distress, and his instinct is to help her. "And a kiss is not inconsequential…but, I have trouble believing that a woman such as yourself has never been kissed."

Integra flushes, and Edward can feel the heat of embarrassment cascade off of her. "I've been kissed," she says, "but not by the right person, not by someone who isn't deep down intimidated by me, someone who would would be a true partner…" As she speaks, she raises her eyes to Edward.

Edward drops his eyes from the intensity in hers, but he stops at her lips…her warm, soft, human lips. He remembers the feel of Bella's warmth against him when she was still human, how indescribably wonderful that felt. Her weakness under his strength. To feel that again…

What Edward feels instead is an incredibly strong hand roughly shoving him aside. Alucard has been standing back, keeping an eye on his master, and if her last wish is going to be satisfied, he'll be damned if it will be done by anyone but him. He takes his master firmly into his arms and runs his hand determinedly through her flaxen hair to the back of her head, tilting it back ever so gently to face him. He sees something flash in her eyes that he takes as permission, and before she can change her mind, before Edward can make an obnoxious attempt to throw him off, he presses his sharp, red mouth to Integra's smaller, more vulnerable one.

He tastes his master and his eyes fall shut; the only sensation he wants invading his sensibilities is that of her sweet mouth moving under his. He presses more earnestly into her, and Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing presses back. She claws her fingers through his thick, black tangles and clutches at the back of his now hatless head. But she doesn't jerk him away; she pulls him closer. Their mouths open, their heads turn, and their bodies smash together. And this is the kiss…this is the kiss that Integra has dreamed of without ever knowing whose face it was on the other side.

Alas, she needs to breathe and pulls back. The clean air reawakens her brain cells, and she lets reality seep back in. She breathes out in a low, husky voice, "Alucard, that was entirely inappropriate." And yet she does not release her grip on the back of his head.

His lips curl devilishly, and he murmurs, "There are many more inappropriate things I could do, if that's what pleases you."

The last traces of orange disappear from the sky, and they stand in inky blackness. It's time to get moving. Edward clears his throat from nearby, and Integra steps away from Alucard. "We'll get back to this later," she says sternly to her vampire.

"I can't wait," Alucard comments with a grin.

"Not like that," she scolds. "I meant in terms of your punishment."

"Like I said--"

"Oh can it, Alucard!" she reprimands, fully returning to her all-business persona. "Let's rejoin the others and do this."

The seven remaining Survivors flawlessly go through the motions of settling in for the night, and rendezvous in the forest nearly an hour later.

Jasper speaks first. "We'll attempt to meet up at the designated spot on the mainland, but if we're not already there, do _not_ wait for us. Assume we've been compromised and move on to headquarters to complete the operation with out us. Likewise, we will be prepared to complete the operation without you if you don't join us in a reasonable amount of time."

"If either group is captured, the story we tell them is that both groups were headed to the mainland to tell the Brazilian authorities," Integra instructs. "Do not reveal that we know anything about the location of their headquarters. Assume that the other group is still moving toward the target."

"Good luck," Jasper says and shakes Sir Integra's hand.

Alucard stands back and watches as handshakes go around, and then Alice saunters over, and stretching up as high as her tiny body can go, she returns his hat to his head, and says, "There you go, Big Red. Take care of yourself."

"You don't have lice, do you?" he asks. Alice ignores his comment and gives Seras a hug. Then the groups split with the Cullens cutting straight across the narrow island to the western shoreline, and the Hellsings taking off on a longer trek to the south.

* * *

Team Hellsing keeps a wary eye out as they follow the map Leon gave them. They've ventured fairly far in without anything happening, and they're getting a bit skittish. The fact that they haven't seen anything suspicious seems rather suspicious. Seras stops and points up at a strangely-shaped mass high up in one of the trees.

"What's that?" she asks.

Alucard replies, "It's only a monkey."

"Well, why isn't it moving? Doesn't that seem odd?" Seras questions. As she says it, the monkey suddenly plummets to the earth. "Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?" she asks in a slight panic.

Integra cautiously walks over to it and answers grimly, "Because it's dead."

"What?"

The three others walk over to stand next to Integra, and they see that the monkey is, in fact, dead. They further see that it's only half a monkey. Something has savagely ripped away the entire left side. The foul smell of rancid meat wafts from the beast, which is starting to turn a greyish-greenish color.

"A ghoul," Alucard murmurs.

"A fresh ghoul," Walter adds.

"There's another vampire on this island," Integra says and looks at Alucard and Seras. "Do you sense anything?"

"I did feel something as we approached this area," Seras answers. "That's why I paid special attention to the figure. But it wasn't strong; it wasn't the full aura of a vampire. And it's gone now."

Alucard's eyebrows pull together. "Yes, I felt something as well, but it seemed as if it was coming from you," he says to Seras.

"Me?"

"Yes, it felt…familiar, different from other vampires. It had the essence of my fledgling, so I thought perhaps it had something to do with your heightened emotions."

"If anything more happens that you cannot absolutely explain, you must let me know immediately," Integra demands. "We can't defeat this enemy unless we have full communication. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Seras answers, and Alucard nods.

The ghoul half-monkey begins to squirm on the ground. "Alcuard, immobilize it," Integra orders.

Alucard scoops the monkey up and tears its arm off, ripping flesh and snapping bones. He tosses the arm away with perfect aim through the trees, so that it flings clear through to where they can't see it any more. He rips the half skull off and crushes it, and then fishes his hand through the slippery insides of what remains of the chest cavity.

"The heart's gone," he announces. "Well, for good measure…" He tears the leg away, splattering bits of monkey gore on himself and anyone standing too close, and sends it hurling in the direction opposite the arm.

It felt good to rip something apart, but the activity only served to whet Alucard's appetite for destruction. At least he can take comfort in the knowledge that there's another vampire on the island. A _real_ vampire that can change creatures into ghouls. That could finally make things interesting.

* * *

After an uneventful run across the island, the Cullens have hit the water. They submerge to about two hundred meters below the surface to avoid detection by humans on the surface. At nighttime, the water is nearly pitch black at this depth, but their Unstet eyes can see just fine, automatically adjusting to their dim surroundings. Their only mode of communication down here is Edward's ability to read Jasper and Alice's minds.

They are moving along at a good clip through the inky water, when they are startled by a blaring light the size of a headlight that suddenly appears to their left. They halt, and as they observe, the light begins to dim to a soft glow. They can now make out the form of a tiny creature, only about six inches long. Beneath the light, the creature appears very dark in color, possibly black, and nearly half its body is a gelatinous head with a bulging pair of red eyeballs at the base. Beneath the head, its cape-like body slowly undulates in the water, keeping the creature in a fairly static position.

Jasper, who got a degree in Marine Biology a few decades ago, recognizes what it is. _Vampyroteuthis, Vampire Squid,_ he acknowledges. _They usually stay further down in the depths, but it's not unheard of to see them at this level. They are still something of a mystery to scientists, but they are considered fairly harmless._

Alice can see by Edward and Jasper's expressions that there's nothing to be concerned about and kicks over for a closer examination. The small aquatic animal truly is a remarkable creature, and even without knowing what it's called, Alice automatically feels somewhat akin to it. Perhaps it's the red eyes that let her know that they are somehow related. She holds a hand out close to it, to let it know she's friendly. She sees now that the cape-like body comprises eight skinny arms connected by a webbing. The creature touches the tips of each of its arms to her hand, tickling it, and Alice giggles. The tips of the skinny arms glow brighter.

Jasper taps Alice's shoulder; he's impatient to continue, but she waves him off with her free hand and asks for one more minute. They're just going to end up waiting for the Hellsings at the other end, anyway, and how often does she get to play with something like _this_? When she turns back from Jasper, she sees that the creature has now covered her hand with its webbed legs, like a mitten. She feels something smooth and solid move over her fingers, and then it crunches down on them. Hard!

Alice screams underwater at the searing pain, but she's even more surprised than hurt. It's not often that anything in this world can pierce the granite-like flesh of an Unstet. What the hell is this thing? She whips her arm back and forth, easily tossing the creature off of her and swims back to Jasper and Edward. She holds her arm up, and her hand hangs limp. She can't move it. The Vampyroteuthis has paralyzed her hand!

All three Cullens feel an eerie chill pass through them. They've just come across one of the few creatures in existence that can cause them any type of harm, and they're more than a little freaked out by it. They become more anxious than ever to get away from Vampire Island. Alice will still be able to swim without the use of her hand, although it's going to slow them down. Jasper holds onto her injured hand, and they turn to start swimming again, but discover that they're not going anywhere quick.

A wall of water in front of them, fifty feet tall and at least that wide, lights up. For a moment the three Unstet vampires have no reaction other than to gape in wonder. The lighted wall disappears as suddenly as it appeared, and then it is back on again. They see that the wall is made up of thousands of miniature vampire squid, which have been there all along, camouflaged even to Unstet eyes as long as their lights were off.

_We blast through them at full force_, Jasper commands in his head and pantomimes to Alice.

The lights begin flashing in random patterns, and the effect on the Cullens is something like that of a strobe light on humans. Everything seems to move in slow motion. The vampires charge the blinking wall, and the lights begin swirling all around them, now zipping through the water like tiny bolts of lighting. Jasper jerks his leg in agony as one of the varmints bites his foot. He kicks it off and realizes that he cannot feel his toes.

Edward sends a squid reeling into the abyss as he knocks it off his shoulder, but there is another at his opposite elbow, and it clamps down, numbing the immediate area. Edward, Jasper and Alice punch and kick while they try to swim through the swarm of Vampyroteuthis, but these things are like mosquitoes, and when one is swatted away, ten more come. Soon there is no more thought of swimming; they are simply thrashing violently about, trying to keep the creatures off of them.

The light show has become so random that it is disorienting; it's difficult to know which way is up, down and forward. In the mayhem, the mini-squid manage to land enough bites to slow the vampires down, and if they keep getting bitten, they are not going to be able to move at all. The Cullens notice that the more they move in a certain direction, the more intense the attacks become, so they instinctively push back, away from the attacks, and they finally reach a point where the demon squid no longer follow, instead reforming their wall and dimming their lights to a steady glow.

Jasper scans the area. _I think we're back where we started_. He and Edward have numb spots at various points on their bodies, and they've been weakened, but they can still swim fairly well. Alice's tiny limbs, however, were easier for the squid to get their jaws around, and she can barely keep herself afloat.

_She's not going to make it through another charge. We'll have to swim around,_ Jasper tells Edward; then he grabs Alice's arm and helps her swim to the left to go around the collection of miniature squid.

The Vampyroteuthis have small ear-like fins at the tops of their heads. Thousands of these tiny fins begin waving, and the entire wall mimics the Cullens' movement across the ocean, blocking them. Jasper points down and Edward, Alice and Jasper dive down. The wall follows. They spiral up to the surface as fast as their injured Unstet bodies will allow, and the wall follows. The three vampires push their heads above the surface of the water so they can talk.

"It's futile. They don't want us to get past them. Alice, are you getting any feeling back at all?" Jasper asks.

She shakes her head sadly. "No, and it's getting more difficult to keep swimming. I'm sure I can make it back to the island, though. I'll return to the beach where I can wait until the feeling comes back, but you guys should try again right now. I'll meet up with you later."

"No, Alice. We're not going to leave you alone on the island in your debilitated state," Jasper insists.

"The creatures seem to only be interested in keeping us from going through them," Edward observes. "They don't bother us when we stay closer to shore. What if we hug the shoreline and swim around to the southern tip of the island to join the others at the boat?"

"That could work," Jasper says. "I just hope we can get there before it leaves." Alice's head slips beneath the surface, and she struggles to push it back up. "Come on Edward, you take that side of her, I've got this one. We've got to hurry." He and Edward pull Alice's barely mobile arms over their shoulders and begin swimming around the island with the Vampyroteuthis mirroring them the whole way.

* * *

The Hellsings are almost there. They can see the empty boat a short distance ahead of them and no obstacles in the way. They are far from jubilant, however. They know the lack of hurtles on the island only means that the Major has redoubled his defensive efforts at headquarters.

They begin to approach the boat when Alucard throws an arm in front of Integra and warns, "Stop. There's a presence."

"Aw, jeez, do you have to spoil everything?" says an annoyed voice from the boat as the sandy form of Jeff Probst straightens up from his crouched position on the floor. "This was supposed to be a surprise!"

Alcuard strides over to the boat, and says, "Well then, surprise!" He grabs Jeff by the back of the neck and flings him onto the beach in a crumpled heap before the Survivor host can shock him again.

"Quickly!" Integra shouts, and she, Seras and Walter scramble to join Alucard on the boat.

Alucard starts the engine, and they begin moving away from the small harbor, only to make it about forty feet from shore before the engine splutters and then cuts out completely. The boat gently rocks back and forth, and they are surrounded on all sides by the gently moving waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

Alucard and Seras wear vials of dirt from their homeland around their necks, but this won't do them any good in the water. They are trapped on the small speed boat. They all rise to standing and turn back toward the shore when they hear a now all-too-familiar voice.

"Guten Tag!" the Major quacks from the large television screen that has mysteriously appeared at the edge of the trees.

"How does he do that?" Seras asks in a perplexed and somewhat impressed murmur.

"Oh, good, Looney Tunes is back," Alucard seethes. He is furious at being trapped like this. He'd been geared up for a fight, and now here he is, captured and impotent on the sea. He has the power of millions souls literally at his command, but even on the rare chance that Integra would allow their release, not one of them can he make cross the water.

The Major cackles and says, "Probst, do remind me to give Herr Kennedy a raise. This is more fun than I imagined it vould be."

Probst only squeaks weakly from the sand, where he's still lying like a malformed sandcastle after his rough tossing.

"Leon…" Seras gasps, "…double crossed us?"

Alucard opens his mouth, but Integra orders, "Don't say it, vampire. Walter, do you have any idea how to fix a boat engine?"

"I could certainly try," he offers and goes to the back of the boat and begins fiddling with the engine.

The chances of Walter being able to fix an engine that has clearly been tampered with are slim, and all four of the trapped Survivors, even Alucard, are grateful to have another team in the water that Leon doesn't know about. But how long will it take for the Major to notice that they are not here?

"Do not vorry," the Major tells them. "Your friends will be joining you in just a few short minutes."

Almost before he finishes saying it, three heads pop up out of the water next to the boat.

"Thank God we caught you," Edward says, relieved to see the boat still there. "Alice is injured." He and Jasper help her into the boat, and then climb in after. When they're all crowded into the boat, the Cullens take in the Hellsings' thoughts and emotions and realize that all is not right.

"What's going on?" Jasper asks.

"Welcome back, Herr Whitlock."

Jasper whips his head toward the giant television. "Son of a--"

"Ve vill be leaving my mother out of this," the Major says. "It is good to haff you all together; it vill make it so much easier to administer your punishment."

Integra is standing next to Jasper; she whispers, "We can jump in the water and push the boat to shore -- get my vampires to safety, so we can defend against any punishment he has for us."

A soft glow flashes under the surface of the glossy black water, and Edward looks over the edge of the boat to see that his little friends have them surrounded. "Those are the things that did this to Alice," he informs Integra.

"Damn it!" the Hellsing leader hisses as she realizes there's no way to avoid whatever torturous punishment the Major has planned for them.

"To help you understand how truly disappointed I am that you do not vish to play by my rules, there vill be a change in the rules. Before the next Tribal Council, there vill be no immunity challenge. Each und every one of you are equally at risk for being voted out. Und, to further make you understand that I mean business, ve vill haff the vote right now. No chance for discussion or sveet talking your vay out of a vote," the Major says and pauses for dramatic effect.

"That's it?" Alice asks from her reclined position in one of the boat's seats.

"You vould prefer something else?" the Major asks curiously.

"NO!" they shout, and then there is a cacophony of '_This is fine...__good punishment, Major_..._we've really learned our lesson, now_..._that'll sure teach us_.'

With a satisfied smile, the Major says, "Vell then, let's get to it. I believe my trusted assistant left you everything you need on the boat. Cast your votes and then float them to shore in the bottle."

Walter locates the supplies under one of the seats and passes out the index cards. They will take turns with the Sharpie.

"My first Tribal Council," the Major twitters. "I am so excited."

.

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**Author's Notes:**

Didja miss me? Well, I certainly did miss you, and I apologize for the delay, especially to all of you who put this up on alert and favorite. Thanks so much for coming back. I will do my very best to not be gone so long next time…but if you are looking for something to read in the meantime, allow me to suggest my new Hellsing one-shot, Well, Hello Dolly. It's silly fun at the Hellsing Manor. Thanks to all of you who've already checked it out! And speaking of monkey's falling out of trees…**Fallen Monkey** has made her fanfiction debut with a marvelous story called, Geek Girl, which can be found in my favorites. If you've ever seen the movie "Sixteen Candles," you have to read it. You have to.

Enormous thanks to **Metropolis Kid** for so readily answering my questions for this chapter. You should all really thank him, too, because you would not _believe_ what I was going to try to pull here. He really saved my neck. Get it – saved my neck…vampire story? Eh, eh? (btw MetroK, I'm not talking about the kiss – it was always going to be Alucard. I was just being evil. Evile! Mwahahahahaha!!!!!!!)

The vote is a free-for-all this time. You can vote for whoever you want among the seven remaining Survivors. The poll is up at my profile right now, and will stay open until at least September 16.

-LiLa

P.S. Were the vampire squid not awesome? They are REAL, and if you'd like to learn more about them, you can do so at (remove spaces): http:// www. seasky. org/deep-sea/vampire-squid. html

P.P.S I'd like to give a special 'Hey' to those of you who've recently ventured to University. I sincerely appreciate you prying your lips off the beer bongs long enough to read this. ;P


	12. The chapter in which there is singing

**Dedication:** This chapter is dedicated to a very good fish, Pepsuber, who journeyed on to that giant vampire squid in the sky today. He was always fond of playing dead, but this time it was for real. Farewell, you backwards-swimming, dead-playing, long poop-having rascal; you will be missed. :(

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Chapter 12

The chapter in which there is singing

Alucard is the last to put his parchment into the bottle, and sand-Probst staggers to his feet, ready to scoop the bottle out of the water once it floats gently to the shore. Instead of floating it, however, Alucard corks the bottle, winds up and pitches it to shore, nailing Probst squarely in the forehead and knocking him back to the sand. This time the trusty host doesn't moan. This time he lies very still; he's been knocked unconscious.

The Major chokes back an amused snort as he watches his monitor, but then pulls himself together and looks sternly out from the television screen. "Vell, now, vat are ve going to do? Novone can read the votes until my minion regains consciousness. Ah! I know, how about ve check in on some of your friends, hm?"

The Cullens tense, and little Alice tries to push herself up. She hasn't had so much as a flash into the future of any of their missing family members, so they are anxious to get another live glimpse and to see if Rosalie is with them. But that's not what they see. That's not what they see at all.

They are looking at an entirely different location. They see a large stage with blue lights. Smoky white beams flash all around it and spill out onto conspicuously empty theatre seats. At the back of the stage hangs an electric sign in the shape of an oval. Glowing neon tubes spell out something in cursive letters. It says: _La Push Idol_.

"Some kind of idol…" Integra murmurs as if trying to solve a puzzle. "The push…what can it mean?"

"La Push is a community near our town of Forks. It's home to the Quileute Native American tribe; they're friends of ours," Edward answers, not taking his confused and concerned eyes off the screen.

A petite man with messy hair, bleached blond at the tips, walks out onto the stage. He's wearing a stylish sport coat with jeans and a black dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. He flashes his pearly whites at an audience that isn't there and says, "Welcome to La Push Idol, where many werewolves will compete, but only one will sing his fellow pack-members' way to freedom. I'm your host, Ryan Seacrest."

"Werewolves?" Alucard questions.

"Erm, yes, our friends are werewolves," Edward confesses.

Integra turns to him with a surprised look. "You're friends with werewolves?"

Jasper steps in. "They're not technically werewolves; they're shapshifters, and the shape they turn into happens to be that of a wolf."

"Really big wolves," Alice puts in from her seat. She's sitting up straight now and appears to be recovering from her injuries.

"They are not a danger to your kind?" Walter asks curiously.

"They _are_ dangerous to us," Jasper corrects him.

"Yeah," Alice adds. "They only exist to protect humans from us 'blood suckers' as they call us. One step into their territory, and we're dead meat."

"Well then, why are you friends with them?" Integra asks.

"Oh, they're really nice," Alice says, nodding her head. Her answer is met by a skeptical glare from the Hellsing heir.

"Nice werewolves?" Seras asks, sounding somewhat intrigued.

Alucard chuckles, "The only 'nice' werewolf is one that has his skull caved in and the holes of a thousand silver bullets piercing his pelt."

"Well, you see, Bella used to have a crush on one of them," Alice begins in explanation.

"She did _not_ have a crush on him," Edward corrects.

"Well, she kissed hi—"

"_He_ kissed _her_," Edward cuts in, now fuming.

"Twice," Alice mumbles under her breath, and then sees from Edward's look that she better drop it. "Well, anyway, they used to be really good friends, so when Bella became one of us, he was sort of part of the package, especially after Bella had the baby, and-"

"That's enough of our personal history, Alice," Edward warns. "The point is, they are our allies, and now it would appear that they are in as much danger as we are." He inclines his head back toward the television, and all attention returns there.

By this time three figures have come out to occupy chairs set at a table just in front of the stage. "And here we have our three judges," Seacrest announces. "Simon Cowel is finally feeling in his element, now that the contestants are monsters, just like him."

The saucy Brit rolls his eyes, and shakes his head in blatant disgust at Seacrest's lame joke. Moving on to the next judge, it looks like the persistent rumors about Abdul leaving the show have been true, because that sure as hell isn't Paula. It's a hulking figure in a dark camo-green great coat with a tall collar standing up all the way around, so that half of his face is covered. On his head he wears a matching military hat with a skull and crossbones emblem on the front. The short rim of the cap is pulled down low and pushes his unkempt waves of pure white hair over his eyes. Only one eyeball peers out between his bangs, like a large, boiled egg.

"And now the guy we just can't seem to get to shut up, Captain Hans Günsche. At least we think that's his name; he hasn't exactly told us, yet."

The Captain stays silent and merely stares intensely at the stage with his egg eye, making Seacrest nervous. The host quickly turns to the next judge, who is far less threatening. The small figure bounces up and down excitedly in his khaki Hitler-youth uniform, his blond wisps flopping around his pointed cat-like ears. Before Seacrest even addresses him, he starts babbling.

"Dah, it is great to be here, Ryan. I can hardly vait to send the next one into the incinerator."

"Good to have you back, Junior Warrant Officer Schrödinger."

"Bring on the volves!" Schrödinger cheers.

"You heard him; they're begging for it – come on out Sam," Seacrest says.

A strapping man with cropped, jet black hair and russet skin steps out on the stage in a tight pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, unbuttoned almost to the naval. Through the opening in his shirt, it's plain to see that he's a solid mass of foxy wolf meat.

"Tonight's theme is songs from New Wave bands of the eighties. What're you singing for us tonight, Sam?"

"You'll see," Sam answers somewhat cockily, especially considering the circumstances. He clearly doesn't plan on going to the incinerator tonight. He takes the stage, and lights begin circling as a catchy beat flows out onto the stage. His hips gyrate, and he pulls the microphone to his mouth, drawling sultry lyrics into it.

_'Dark in the city; night is a wire  
Steam in the subway; earth is afire  
Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo  
Woman you want me; give me a sign  
And catch my breathing even closer behind__'(1)_

He swivels and sings and, quite frankly, seems to be enjoying this a little too much. When he's finished, he stands panting from the effort, and watches the three in front of him, awaiting their judgment.

Cat-boy leans back in his chair, and makes a show of folding his arms behind his head. He hasn't felt this powerful since his last sugar buzz. He shrugs and pronounces, "It was just alright for me, dog." And then he can't help himself – his little shoulders start shaking, and he elbows the Captain. "Get it? _Dog_…und he's a werewolf?"

The captain turns his boiled eye toward the small boy, but doesn't say a word or give any other reaction.

"Aw, come on. You know how Randy always calls them 'dog,'" Schrödinger prods. When the Captain continues to mutely stare with no expression, the boy whines, "You really haff a way of taking the fun out of things. I'm telling the Major on you."

The transmission cuts, and there's only static on the television.

The fuzzy crackling emanating from the beach perfectly mimics the confusion that racks the contestants' minds after that very...odd...display.

"Sing their way to freedom?" Alice finally murmurs. He said one would 'sing his fellow pack-members' way to freedom,' so they must be holding some of them – and I'll just bet they're with Carlisle and everyone, and _that's_ why I can't see anything about them!"

Edward turns to the Hellsings to explain, "Alice's visions are blocked around the wolves."

"Why?"

"We don't know."

"So then, you can't read their minds, either?" Integra asks.

"No, I can read their minds," Edward answers.

"So, your gift works on them, but Alice's doesn't?"

"Right."

"Seems rather inconsistent doesn't it?"

Edward is spared from having to admit to the multitude of inconsistencies surrounding Unstet vampires and their gifts when there's a loud groan from the beach. Probst is reviving. The host sits up and gives his head a firm shake, sending tiny granules flying off of him in all directions.

The television pops, and the Major is back in view. "Did you enjoy the show?" he asks.

"What do the wolves have to do with any of this?" Jasper demands.

"Vat does anything haff to do vith anything?" the Major asks cryptically. "I believe I already told you that my purpose is a total absence of purpose. Vere you not listening?"

"He obviously wanted the wolves around to block Alice's visions, and decided to have some fun with them while he was at it," Edward whispers with disgust at the inhumane treatment of non-humans.

"I hardly think the Major spent so much as one second worrying over the special gifts of a group of sparkling vampires," Alucard says derisively. "No, something else is going on here." His red eyes narrow at the television screen, trying to figure out what the hell the Major is up to.

"Now then, Probst -- are you quite vell enough to read the votes?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," Probst answers, feeling around in the sand for the bottle. He finds it, and sitting cross-legged on the beach, pops the cork and pulls the votes out one at a time. He still appears to be a bit dazed, and has to squint and adjust the paper at various distances from his eyes before he reads groggily, "First vote, Walter."

Integra flinches, but then resumes her composure. It makes sense. They have to consider the best way out of this mess, and he's the oldest member of the crew. Even if he is in stellar shape for his age, he's still an old man. She feels a flash of anger at her relief that it wasn't her name written down.

"Next vote, "Alice."

Jasper's arm shoots protectively around his mate. This vote makes sense, too. Alice had arrived at the boat badly injured with no one knowing when or if she'd recover. And the Hellsings control the vote. The Cullens' only hope is that, without being able to communicate, the Hellsings' vote was split.

Next vote, "Alice."

Alice's stomach plummets, and Jasper tightens his grip around her shoulder.

"Edward," Probst reads next, and Jasper feels hope, but it's only his own; there is no blip in Alice's mood.

"Edward," Probst reads again, and now Jasper feels a shift in Alice, but it's almost more guilty than hopeful.

"That's two votes Edward, two votes Alice, and one vote Walter," Jeff explains before pulling out the next vote. "Walter," Probst reads, and his eyes suddenly clear and flash with excitement. He can't recall a time when the vote has come down to a three-way tie with only one vote remaining.

"So, we've got two votes each for Alice, Edward, and Walter. Next vote could decide it all, or it could leave us with a three way tie," the elated host announces. He pulls out the last roll of parchment and looks at it; from the way his eyes pop, they can tell that it's a deciding vote. He slowly raises his eyes to them and says dramatically, "Sixth person voted out of Survivor: Vampire Island is _Alice_."

Alice gnashes her teeth together, suppressing a distressed squeak, and Jasper wraps both of his arms tightly around her. "There's no way they're taking you," he growls with unmitigated determination.

Alice hugs him back and says, "I know you want to protect me, but sweetie, I've got to do this. We learned tonight that there's no other choice. And I don't believe they're exterminating us. The sand didn't kill Jeff, and he was only human. And they never showed any wolves actually get into an incinerator. They're just big bullies trying to scare us. I'm going to be fine, promise."

Jasper cups the back of her head in his palm and presses his face to her spiky hair. "See something, baby," he begs in a murmur. "Tell me that you see us together again; tell me it's all going to be okay."

"Jasper," she whimpers and brings her arms up around his neck, pulling him to her as tightly as she possibly can. "We're going to be together, again; we will, but…I don't see anything."

"Try, baby, try. I'm not letting you go until you do."

Alice clamps her eyes tightly together and focuses. In the past, she has sometimes been able to channel very convenient visions during times of extreme stress. Her eyes fly open, and she chirps, "I see something…I see something! Which means that I'm not going to be extinguished!" Her eyes maintain a glassy look, and then her face scrunches in confusion. "Who's that? What's _he_ doing here?"

"That is quite enough, pathetic lovers!" the Major shouts from the television, breaking Alice's reverie. She and Jasper remain touching, but have loosened their grip on each other. "Now prepare to meet your fate immediately, or I vill have my little vater friends dump the entire boat."

The boat shakes from underneath as the tiny squid remind them of their presence.

Jasper helps Alice stand -- her legs are still a little weak -- and he says in a smooth, authoritative voice, "Bring us to shore, and you can have her."

Edward knows what Jasper is thinking, and he agrees: once they get to shore they can overpower Probst and refuse to give up Alice. They can run and run without ever losing energy, and they can fight off whatever this psychopath wants to throw at them. One of the principles of Survivor is to outlast, and they can certainly do that. And yet…and yet…that won't help them to get Bella back. If they resist the Major's instructions, he is going to obliterate her and Carlisle and Esme and Emmett and whatever wolves are with them. No, when they get to shore, he's going to have to restrain his brother, let Alice go, and pray for the best. It's the only way.

The seven contestants stand huddled together on the small boat in the middle of the black, glassy sea, gently rocking as the ocean's surface undulates. Another discreet motion is thrown into the mix as the boat begins to slowly turn. The squid are repositioning it to face the shore.

"I vonder if you could see your way to doing me one favor, Fraulein Cullen," The Major says. With no response from Alice other than a face pulled into an expression that plainly says, '_Are you flipping kidding me?_' he continues. "Haff you seen the movie 'Titanic'?" It's a rhetorical question; _everyone_ has seen 'Titanic.' "Remember the scene vere Leo is leaning off the front of the boat und he says, 'I'm the king of the vorld'?"

The passengers on the boat exchange confused glances, and then Alucard snaps, "Are we reliving favorite movie moments or shoving sparklers into the sand?"

"Ah, Alucard, patient as ever," the Major says. "Fraulein Cullen, as the squid direct your boat in, vill you please stand at the bow und hold your arms out like Leo und say it?"

"Are you flipping kidding me?" Alice asks out loud this time. Apparently the non-verbal cues hadn't quite gotten her point across.

"Uff course you are under no obligation. I suppose instead of towing you in, I could haff my pets simply dump the boat, destroying the Nosferatu, paralyzing your kin, und drowning the humans…if you vould prefer."

"You are barking mad!" Integra shouts

"Velcome to the program, Frauliein Hellsing," the Major twitters with a high pitched chuckle.

While the Major cackles, Jasper whispers to Alice in a voice so low that only she can hear it, "Don't worry, I have something planned for when we get to shore. Cooperate until then, and we'll catch them off guard."

Alice nods as the boat completes its rotation and points toward shore. She has regained enough feeling in her legs to climb onto the bow of the boat and step to the edge. She leans forward and holds her arms out to her side and shouts, "I'm the king of the wo-"

The boat lurches from the impact of hundreds of squid, throwing Alice off balance and over the side of the boat. Jasper leaps toward her, but is stopped mid-air when Edward grabs his legs. He crashes onto the front of the boat and shimmies to the edge, but Edward climbs up and pins him. Jasper struggles, but Edward has the advantage of being on top, and all Jasper can do his twist underneath his brother to peer through the inky water. He sees that Alice is surrounded by tiny squid. They don't appear to be stinging her, but have wrapped their tentacles around her arms and legs and are pulling her deeper into the water.

Her eyes are wide open, and she looks straight through the water's blur at Jasper. She smiles and winks, trying to reassure him as she's dragged down to who-knows-what fate.

"Alice," Jasper groans, right before she disappears.

Edward whispers softly to him, "You have to let her go. Going after her isn't going to save her; it'll only endanger everyone. We have to play the game…we have to play the game."

Jasper despondently stares into the depths, willing his wife to reappear. After a while, he becomes aware of a firm, stabilizing confidence that surrounds him and presses into him.

"Dude," Jasper says to his brother.

"Yes," Edward answers compassionately.

"Could ya get off me now?"

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**Footnotes:**

(1) Lyrics from "Hungry Like the Wolf"; written and performed by Duran Duran. Thanks, Metropolis Kid, for the superb suggestion!

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**Author's Note:**

I know, short…but sweet, right? You do think I'm sweet, don't you? Well, it was either post now or wait two more weeks to get us to the next vote, and I just couldn't bear to be without y'all for that long. (Which means, Tsuki, that we are in for a bit more than just four more chapters, as I told you. I hope you don't mind. If ever I try to give another hard prediction like that, just don't listen to me; I have no idea what I'm talking about.)

Many thanks to Master of the Boot for making time in his busy schedule to look parts of this over and provide his sage advice. You will always be my Master beta……ooh, that sounds kinda funny, doesn't it? ;P

The results of the poll in which sweet, darling, adorable, wonderful Alice got voted out are posted on my profile. You guys really shocked me this time! I thought it was going to be Edward, fo' sho. All I can say is…how _could_ you???

-LiLa


	13. The chapter in which they pair off

**Author's Note**: I am ecstatic to tell you that this chapter was co-written with the illustrious fanfiction author, **Master of the Boot**. The challenge is his brainchild, and he wrote the entire sequence for one of the teams. You'll have no problem figuring out which one (hint: it's the exciting, riveting, amazing one). He also introduced me to a symbol that I decided to take and run with in my sequences, too.

This chapter is the longest yet, so grab yourself a tasty beverage and a salty tub o' popcorn, and enjoy the show…

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Chapter 13

The chapter in which they pair off

The six remaining Survivors approach camp and see Leon standing on the beach, camera pointed toward them. The moment Seras lays eyes on him, before even clearing the trees, she flies at him.

"You son of a-" she screeches and loses the last word in the force of the right hook that she throws at him.

Leon was expecting it and swiftly ducks. This isn't the first time he's dodged a blow from Seras Victoria. Before she launches another attack, he shouts, "I swear to you I didn't know!"

"Didn't know what?" Seras spits back. "That I'd come back in one solid piece to beat the living piss out of you?" she shrieks.

Her five tribemates stand back; they see that Seras is perfectly capable of taking care of the traitorous cameraman all by herself.

She advances on him again, but Leon steps back and blurts, "I didn't know they knew that I knew!"

"Huh?" Seras says, and stops out of sheer confusion.

"About the boat. They knew that I knew about the boat," Leon explains.

"Well, why wouldn't they know that you knew?" Seras asks.

"I wasn't supposed to know. But they purposely let the information leak right before they shipped me out to the island, so they knew that I knew, and they knew that if I knew, you would know, but I didn't know that they knew that I knew, you know?" He is pleading, not only with his voice, but with bright blue eyes as he peers into Seras's red ones, hoping she'll see his sincerity.

Seras is angry, but she falters when a swatch of soft, bronze hair falls over his eye. She remembers the feel of that same swatch of hair brushing against her cheek once upon a time, and she wants to believe him; she just doesn't know if she should. She stands paralyzed by her indecision, ready to strike, yet not moving.

Integra takes over. "How do we know that you didn't know that they knew that – ugh! Mr. Kennedy, why should we trust you?"

He looks steadily at Integra and answers, "You shouldn't. It's not that I would intentionally put you in danger, but they are ten steps ahead of me, and anything I try to do to help you, is only going to end up hurting you. So, it's best if I film you, and nothing else." Leon Kennedy's broad shoulders slump as he lifts the camera up, flicks the switch, and starts filming.

Integra turns to Edward, who nods his head and says, "He's being sincere."

"So that's it, then. Mr. Kennedy will continue as our cameraman. There will be no interaction with him whatsoever," Integra orders. "Is that understood?"

Seras clenches her fists and pouts as she watches Leon. As angry and confused as she is, she hates to see him resigned like this, neutered as if he's nothing but the Major's puppy dog. This is all wrong. But for the moment, there's nothing she can do; she can't tear him limb from limb…or anything else. Her anger ebbs as a new, more despondent emotion takes over.

With the Leon issue dealt with, another issue takes precedence. Jasper is brooding. He is worried about Alice, and he misses her. And when Jasper broods, _everybody_ broods. He's usually careful at times like this to wander off by himself to where he won't affect the others, but he is sunk very low this time and simply doesn't effing care. Besides, it's these bastards' fault that she's gone, so why shouldn't they suffer with him? He's got a healthy dose of spite mixed with his sadness, and it's dragging everyone down.

"Mr. Whitlock," Integra snaps, but manages to control her tone into something more appeasing when she continues. "I am very sorry that your mate had to leave, but you must understand where we were coming from with that vote. When you returned to the boat, she was very badly injured. If we are going to make it through this experience and have any chance of rescuing the rest of your family, we have to stay strong, and she was weak."

"There were five votes against us," Jasper murmurs in a dark, low voice.

"Pardon?" Integra asks.

Jasper's voice grows stronger. "There were _five_ votes against the Cullens. There should've only been four. So two of you voted for Alice, two of you voted for Edward, and Edward voted for Alice." As he says this last part, he turns his accusing eyes on his brother. But there is no heat of anger in them, only a coldness, a complete absence of any affection for his brother.

Edward shakes his head, "No, Jasper, you've got it wrong. I didn't vote for Alice. She voted for me. Right before she wrote my name down, she apologized and explained. She knew I wanted to be with Bella. And she was right."

"Bullshit," Jasper challenges.

"Come on, Jasper, I know you felt guilt cascading off of her once the second vote against me was read. She thought it was going to be me, and had a momentary regret for tilting the votes against me."

Jasper pauses and stares at his brother. He did note Alice's conflicted emotions.

"Look," Edward continues. "If you don't want to believe me – just ask them who they voted for," he says and gestures toward the others.

"You already know that I voted for Alice," Integra says.

"As did I," Walter confirms.

Seras is sucking in her lower lip and looks like she's going to cry. "I promised I would never write Alice's name down, and I didn't. I voted for Edward…I'm so sorry, Edward."

"I admire your loyalty, Seras," Edward says. "Don't apologize." He turns to Alucard, who stays silent. "Alucard…" he prods.

Alucard is enjoying the enmity between brothers too much to let it end here. He shrugs. "Oh, Eddie, we both know that you don't really want me to tell him who I voted for. It would put you in a very precarious position."

Edward wants to challenge him, but can tell from the poison in the murkiness of the Nosferatu's mind that there would be no point to it, so he exhales in frustration and turns to his brother. "I suppose the choice is yours, then -- either believe _me_, who has never lied to you, or believe that…that _thing_."

Alucard grins at the insult, and then his deep voice drones to Edward, "Are we to assume, then, that you are offering yourself up for the next vote? You said that your baby sister was correct in assuming that you wanted to be with the weaker half."

Edward clenches his jaw and answers evenly. "They are not the weaker half, simply the ones too noble to engage in this devious game, and yes, I would like to be with them, to be with my wife. However, I realize now that it is more important that I _save_ them. And I am in a better position to do that – we are all in a better position to do that – if I stay right here."

"Forgive me if I seem a bit pessimistic," Walter says, "but how is it, exactly, that you propose to save them? The enemy has very clearly barred any means of escape from the island."

Walter's sobering statement puts a halt to the petty bickering. How are they going to save them, indeed.

Seras jumps as she has an idea. She opens her mouth to say something, but then remembers the camera, and subconsciously glances toward it.

Integra murmurs quietly, barely moving her lips, "Two of you walk away, occupy the camera, so I can hear what Seras has to say and make a plan."

Alucard looks at the others expectantly; he clearly has no intention of walking away. Jasper stubbornly crosses his arms, indicating that he won't be going anywhere, either.

"Fine," Edward grumbles, and Walter shrugs and the two of them step away from the group. Leon seems to understand what's going on and trails behind them. Those remaining turn their attention to Seras.

"Probst," Seras says simply. "My master's been playing around with him, but it's time to get serious. He can't elude a focused restraint by all six of us. We'll pin him down and torture him until the little rat tells us everything."

"I'm all for torturing the rat," Jasper responds, "but you're forgetting about Kennedy. He's fully armed. It's going to take at least three of us to hold him off."

"Unless we get rid of him before that," Alucard suggests.

"What?" Seras gasps sharply. Getting rid of Leon hadn't been part of her plan.

Integra shakes her head. "Yes, that's an excellent idea, servant. Even if he wants to help us, he's still under the Major's control. But don't worry, Seras; we're not going to hurt him."

"What?" Alucard bellows sharply. Not hurting Kennedy hadn't been part of his plan.

"If we dispose of Mr. Kennedy, then the Major will lose all incentive for keeping Zohall alive," Integra explains.

"I have no problem with that," Alucard states.

Integra silences him with a glare and continues, "We're not going to be able to do anything to him until right before we rejoin Probst. We need Kennedy filming right up to that moment, or they'll get suspicious.

"And how exactly are we to keep him out of our way without disposing of him?" Alcuard asks.

"I have an idea," Jasper announces, thinking of a scene from one of his favorite movies.

* * *

Jasper's plan seems plausible enough, but Seras is uncomfortable with it. Her better judgment tells her not to trust Leon, but even still…

Throughout the day in side conversations, the plan is shared and tweaked. They can't put anything into action, however, until they are called to the next challenge, so the Hellsing crew even manages to get in a power nap to restore their strength.

At mid-afternoon they are summoned to the main beach via an intercom system that has been installed on the island while no one was looking. They all obediently line up and start their trek. Seras lollygags just long enough to ensure that she's at the back of the line by Leon. She steals glances at him, and after a while, he trains the camera on those further ahead in the line and turns his face to lock eyes with the young vamp. She blushes and abruptly turns away. Edward is directly in front of her, and she focuses all of her thoughts toward him. She needs just a few minutes with Leon before they reach their destination.

Edward turns and gives Seras a warning glance that Kennedy doesn't miss. But Seras's eyes open wide, puppy-dog style, and Edward, ever the hopeless romantic, relents. He maneuvers to slip behind the camera and then gracefully takes the equipment from Leon so that he and Seras can stay behind and have one last chance to be alone.

The look that Seras gives Leon as the group continues down the path is a mixture of pain and affection. Leon's typically stoic, chiseled features soften under her lethal pout, and he breathes out in a thick murmur, "Seras…"

She's again struck motionless, caught off guard by the apparent strength of his emotion.

"I thought I could pull this off, no problem," Leon continues, "but everything's gotten so much harder since seeing you again…"

"Look," Seras says, cutting him off with some urgency. "You've got to be careful."

"I'm not worried about me," he says. "You're the one who needs to look out for yourself. Listen-"

She doesn't want to hear it. "Leon, we don't have much time; let's not waste any more of it talking." She lunges to him, wraps her arms around his neck and mashes her lips to his in one doozy of a kiss.

Leon can't believe it. Seras had always been so conservative and shy about getting physical, and here she is, literally throwing herself at him. But as a former cop, Leon knows that dangerous situations can cause people to act in all kinds of uncharacteristic ways. Apparently Seras gets amorous, and who is he to complain? He wraps his large hands around her narrow waist and joins the party.

Seras presses herself into him with such force that he steps back until he is stopped by a thick, sturdy tree trunk at his back. While Seras devours his face, Leon flattens his palms along her spine; one hand slowly wanders up while the other creeps downward, inching toward less narrow parts of this undead goddess. As he nears the stuff of teenaged boys' wet dreams, he feels a distinct buoyancy in his pants. This girl is something else.

He's slid one hand over the curve of her rump and is about to give it a squeeze, when suddenly it's yanked away in a vice grip. His other hand, so close to the mother lode, is also snatched and pulled away. Before he can react, he hears a click and the cold steel of his own gun pressing to his temple.

"Surprise," Alucard gloats, holding the gun to Kennedy. Meawhile, Jasper hands Seras the other weaponry they'd lifted during the kiss, and pulls a pair of handcuffs from a cargo pocket in the cameraman's pants to bind his wrists behind the tree. Then he snatches the whip from the cameraman's waistband and secures his feet to the base.

"That was pathetically easy," Alucard sneers and stuffs a buff into Leon's mouth. He spins the pistol around his finger and spreads his mouth in a toothy grin. "Adios muchacho."

As the three contestants move along to rejoin the others, Sera turns to Leon and silently mouths, "I'm sorry."

On the way to the beach, Leon's weapons are discreetly distributed while Edward continues to film. They will catch Probst completely unaware with their ambush. But when they arrive, their trusty host is nowhere to be seen. The only non-native things on the beach are three oversized garbage cans. The contestants spread out along the perimeter of the trees, and those with weapons ready them for whatever's going to happen next.

There's a crackling snap of static. The cursed TV is back, but none of them take their eyes off of their surroundings; they won't be distracted from their target. That is, they aren't distracted until that very target starts talking from the TV.

"Hey, Survivors!" comes the familiar voice of their zombified host. The rat turns out to be a chicken, and he's not taking any more chances; he's staying in the safety of the studio.

"Scum-sucking weasel," Alucard seethes as he aims his pistol toward the TV and blows the top off of a palm tree right next to it.

Via the monitor, Jeff watches the palm explode into tiny fragments and says, "Oh, good, you brought weapons; you're gonna need 'em."

"This is _un_believable," Jasper complains in frustration. "Every time we make a plan…"

"They're twenty steps ahead of us," Integra concludes.

"What do we do now, sir?" Walter asks.

"We play the game," Edward says resolutely. "What else are we going to do – stand around and shoot at inanimate objects?"

"I'd happily shoot at an animated one if you'd kindly start running across the beach," Alucard says, not a hint of a joke in his deep voice.

"We do seem to be only spinning our wheels every time we go against them," Seras interjects. "And Alice said she saw that she wasn't going to be extinguished. Maybe all we need to do is play the game, let the Major get his jollies, and then we can all go home."

"I sincerely doubt it's going to be that easy," Integra says, "but for right now, I agree with Edward. They expect us to keep fighting them, so let's do the unexpected – play along. Keep your eyes and ears open along the way, and an opportunity will present itself, when it does, take advantage, but for now, we play the game."

"You guys done with your tea party over there?" Probst asks. "Cuz, here's the beef: we're dividing you into three teams of two today. Each team will be given a map that will lead them to a package. Once you find it, you must open the package. The packages are going to be messy, and we do expect you to clean up after yourselves, so you've got to retrieve the contents of the packages, bring them back to the beach and stuff them into a garbage can. The last team to secure the lid on their garbage can will be eliminated from the game."

The six Survivors look questioningly at each other.

"That's right," Jeff explains, "_two_ of you are leaving the game today. Now, time to pick the teams." He holds a rounded metal combat helmet upside down, and reaches in, pulling out a piece of paper. "Edward," he reads. "You're going to be with…" he pulls out another paper "…Seras."

Edward and Seras instinctively look toward each other and smile politely, each of them thinking that it could be worse.

Next Jeff reads, "Walter and…Integra. Ooh-hoo-hoo, the two humans; that should make things interesting.

Both Walter and Integra put on a brave face and try not to show their disappointment. They have the greatest respect for each other's abilities, however, this means that they'll be facing off against two all-vampire teams.

"That leaves Alucard and Jasper," Probst concludes.

Jasper flinches. He glances toward his brother, and then turns his eyes to his new partner. Alucard flashes Jasper a malevolent grin, and the Unstet feels his impervious skin crawl. For a moment, Alucard lowers his barriers and allows Edward a clear glimpse of what he's thinking. This time it's Edward who flinches. He pities Jasper, but thinks that maybe spending some alone time with the likes of Hellsing's lead vampire will help his brother to be a little more appreciative and forgiving of those who care about him.

"Each team chooses a garbage can," Probst instructs. "On my go, you will run to the can, pull out the map and get started.

"Survivor's ready? Go!"

The six contestants tear to the garbage cans and pull out their maps. By the time Walter straightens up from grabbing his, the other two teams have already taken off into the trees. He unrolls the map and says to Integra, "We're just going to have to work smarter. I suggest we get our bearings before taking off like a couple of chickens with our heads cut off."

Integra doesn't say a word; she's already intently studying the map.

* * *

Meanwhile, deeper in the jungle, Jasper leads and Alucard follows. This is how the dissimilar duo progresses for some time: Jasper doing all the work of navigation and orientation while Alucard is content to laugh, sing and make strange noises. The duo had originally taken off from the beach, running like mad, but through Alucard's persistent effort, they are now slowed down to a gentle walk.

While he doesn't say it out loud, Jasper is puzzled and a little repulsed by Alucard. Before coming to this island, he had expected Alucard to be a strong and sadistic personality, a mighty military leader type. Contrarily, he found Alucard to be an obnoxious punk. And now that he's been out of his master's presence for more than two minutes, he's more like a brain damaged lunatic.

Jasper continues to read the map. Behind him Alucard is running in circles and pretending that he's an airplane. The centuries old Nosferatu has his arms held out to the side while he makes buzzing noises with his mouth. He obviously doesn't think that Jasper is worth the pretense of good behavior, so he simply does whatever he wants. The sparkling civil war veteran looks back at his map and reads the next instructions aloud in the vain hope that he can get Alucard to pull his fair share. "Head up stream; when you reach the _soyombo _in the grass, turn forty seven degrees towards West."

The blond Cullen waits for some response, some sign that Alucard actually heard what he said. Alucard is currently walking forward on his hands and singing some of his favorite heavy metal songs.

_Now we are like how we were_

_Innocence is more than words_

_Now we are poison and we don't care_

_We have no shame, we strip you bare_

_And you're so precious, lost in smoke_

_Too busy laughing to see the Joke_

_Nobody knows if you've won or you lost_

_Into the palace or up on the cross_

_Into the gravy or into the ground_

_We just don't want you around, sucker!__ (1)_

Jasper can't help but sneer in disgust. Both of his brothers are in some way stupid and arrogant, but they have positive personality traits to compensate for those flaws. Edward is highly intelligent while Emmett is as loyal as can be. Jasper can't think of a single positive trait to apply to Alucard, except that he's good for a laugh…when viewed from a distance.

Alucard gets off his hands and back onto his feet. Next to the pair is a fast flowing river, roughly two meters across. The river has snaked this way and that for a great distance. Jasper tries to get Alucard's attention once more, "Why can't we run instead of walk? We'd have already completed half the challenge if we could at least jog."

Alucard begins to skip instead, but apparently he has heard the Cullen, because he responds, "I don't like to run. I like to stroll gently and enjoy the scenery."

Jasper irritably shoves the map into his pocket and begins to look for the _soyombo_ thingy, whatever that is. "We're racing against two other teams; time is of the essence."

Alucard offhandedly comments, "Oh right, we're racing for the fate of your family." He really couldn't care less.

Jasper is starting to get frustrated with Alucard and his childlike stubbornness. "You might not care for the sake of my family, but I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you are under orders from your master."

Alucard gets off of his hands and begins to strut alongside Jasper. "I have not hindered you in any way. Besides, you did pretty well on the last fifteen clues. I've never really been good with puzzles."

Knowing that further conversation with the Nosferatu will only fuel his headache, Jasper decides to press ahead until he can find this blasted thing in the grass. He has no idea what a soyombo is. Perhaps Alucard knows, but Jasper doesn't relish talking any more to the Hellsing trump card than he absolutely has to.

Alucard's wide smile is quite genuine; he feels frustration emanating off his partner, regardless of how much the empathic Unstet tries to mask it. The frustration itself isn't what brings him such joy; it's the fact that he's the one causing that frustration.

The tall vampire begins to fiddle with his glasses and his hat in his hands; he'd removed them both at the start of the hike. In a sympathetic tone of voice he starts to ask, "So, how is everything going?"

Jasper bites down on his tongue out of irritation. Rather than answer truthfully, he replies, "Fine."

Against the laws of physics, Alucard's smile widens as he puts his glasses and hat back into his coat. "That's very good. I'd expected you to be almost insane with rage after your mate was wounded and then taken by Nazi scum to God knows what sort of horrible fate."

Ouch, Alucard is hitting awfully close to home. Jasper is intensely worried about Alice. He tries to ignore Alucard's goading and purge all emotion from his system by reciting important dates from the Civil War in his mind.

Alucard suddenly jumps into a tree and runs across the branches like a satanic monkey. Jasper isn't the least bit interested by Alucard's goofy antics. Through a superhuman act of will, he focuses on the task at hand and notices that they're approaching a grassy clearing up ahead.

Alucard lands in front of Jasper as quietly as a leaf. Walking backwards, he shoves his face into Jasper's until their noses almost touch. The Cullen son almost winces; Alucard's breathe stinks. Honestly, it smells like a refrigerator full of rancid meat that was fresh two years ago. It's amazing and very fortunate that he hadn't been able to smell it from further away.

Alucard continues to spout diarrhea of the verbal variety. "Your attitude surprises me; I thought you loved your mate. When Edward lost his little cow, he was beside himself with grief. I'm not an empath, but even I could see that."

Oh, Alucard is hitting really close to home with these viscous barbs. Jasper can't remember the last time somebody has made him this angry. It's not just the insults about Alice -- it's the fact that this degenerate thinks he's so much better than him. Jasper can feel the gloating arrogance oozing off of Alucard like the stench wafting off of a corpse. He wants to reach out and slap that arrogant grin off his stupid face. Emmett wouldn't have hesitated to smack Alucard, but Jasper is about a thousand times smarter than his robust brother. He knows what Alucard is capable of and that he's expecting him to play at this petty game.

Dramatically turning around and walking ahead of Jasper, Alucard saunters in a way that could be -- if he weren't so powerful and well loved by the audience -- considered gay. "But really, Rose didn't show any grief for her mate, either. I guess you two have something in common."

Jasper almost betrays his emotions on his face; the strain of reining them in is taking its toll. He and Rose are nothing alike! Sure, they both wanted to kill Bella Swan, but that's where their similarities end. Jasper has nothing in common with the preppy, spoiled princess that is Rosalie.

"But you two did almost kiss, didn't you?" Alucard asks with mocking innocence.

The statement shocks Jasper; Alucard has read his mind.

"That's right; I read your mind, and singing _The Song of the South_ is not going to stop me from seeing all your secrets." Unlike Edward, Alucard takes a malicious and voyeuristic pleasure in reading people's minds, particularly when they're thinking naughty or compromising thoughts.

And Alucard is right; Jasper did almost kiss that stupid bitch. God, now that he looks back, what on earth had he been thinking? He almost cheated on Alice, his very reason for living, and for a stupid game? Jasper tries to defend himself. "But…but Edward almost kissed Integra."

This earns him a shrug from Alucard, "Yes, well, my master isn't some horrible witchy woman who thinks her shit is made of pure gold." Some would argue otherwise, but Alucard disagrees. "And also, Integra is _not _Edward's sister! You damn Cullens say you're a family -- act like it! You can be either a coven or a family, not both! How far are we to the next clue?"

Pleased that Alucard finally has his mind on the job, Jasper allows himself to feel a little relief. "The next clue we're supposed to find is something in that field called a soyombo. Do you have any idea what that is?"

Alucard's answer is maddeningly unhelpful, "Yes I do." He does not elaborate.

Jasper tries to be reasonable while sharing as few words as possible with Alucard. "Would you please tell me what it is or point it out to me?"

Alucard holds up a finger in yet another dramatic pose. "Better yet, I'll find it myself. Follow me, Bubba!"

The southern boy is offended by Alucard's derogatory term for a good ol' boy. "Don't call me Bubba." He is ignored by his partner.

"Whatever, Bubba, just follow my lead." And then the possibly bipolar vampire in red sprints off to find whatever it is that he won't explain to Jasper.

* * *

Edward and Seras make their way swiftly through the jungle. Naturally, Edward had grabbed the map, but Seras isn't about to leave him in charge of this challenge. She's leery of Edward after all the things her Master had whispered to her about him before coming to the island. The guy looks put together enough, but based on what Alucard's "sources" were able to gather, he's got issues. Deep seated issues that have had a hundred years to fester. For all Seras knows, he's going to throw this challenge so he can get back with his wife -- one of his issues includes a sick and twisted co-dependency on her.

Oh, bullocks! One of his other issues is that he's constantly bombarded with the thoughts of others.

"If you don't trust me and want to see the map for yourself, all you have to do is ask," Edward says testily. But even in his attempt to be rude, there is a dreamy quality to his voice.

Seras doesn't know what to say, so she answers honestly. "Yes, please. I'd like a look at the map."

He hands it to her, and she sees that it's not so much a map as a list of instructions mixed with obscure clues. Edward has already guided them through the first three – over a hill, two miles due west, and through a rocky valley. Seras reads the next clue:

'_When you reach the end of the valley_, y_ou may wonder Y you're here_.'

"Uh, yeah, I've been wondering that for a while now," Seras grumbles.

"Here, let me," Edward says and reaches for the paper.

Seras grips it tightly. "No, I've got it. I might not've spend half a century at the finest universities, like you, but I do happen to still have a brain."

"Yes, of course," Edward says and tries to bite back a smile. He's understood since they've been here that Seras is always trying to prove herself. And she does, in fact, have a brain buried under all that cuteness. Quite a good one, as a matter of fact.

"You may wonder why you're here," she mumbles softly to herself. "Oh, duh, of course – Y! We've got to look around for something shaped like a --" she says as she looks around. "Yep! There it is – look at that tree. Shaped like a Y; that's where we need to go."

"Nice job, Seras," Edward says as he looks at and oddly formed tree that splits about half way up into two thick, truck-like branches that angle out to form a Y. Seras can't help but beam a proud grin on the co-dependent Unstet.

They get to the base of the tree, and then Seras reads the next clue out loud:

'_Climb to the top and search for the thing that's guaranteed to keep you here.'_

She looks at Edward and says, "Guaranteed to keep you here? The Major? Do you think the Major is here on the island?"

"Would he be that stupid?" Edward wonders aloud, and without wasting another second on thought, he scrambles up the tree. When he reaches the top of one of the twin branches, he's shocked to see that Seras is already across from him at the top of the other branch, and is eagerly scanning the island for the plump Deutschlander.

Edward's pride gets in the way of his urgency. "How are you up here already?"

"I'm a Nosferatu," she shrugs in answer.

"Well, Unstet are proven to be the fastest breed of vampire at running, climbing, etc., so…"

"Silly Edward," Seras taunts from the branch across the way. "I didn't run or climb the tree. I flew." In truth, she jumped, but as Edward studies her with a dash of envy tainting his features, she only thinks of the air rushing past her as she leapt to the branch. It felt like flying, and to a human it would look like flying, so where's the lie?

"Flew?"

"Yes – can't Unstet fly?" she asks with false naiveté; she knows damn well that despite their many talents, Unstet cannot fly. But seeing Edward's smug, superior attitude shaken for once, Seras feels a need to rub his nose in the dirt a little. And even though she can't actually fly, either, at least it _is_ a possibility for her one day.

"Well…_I _can see perfectly clearly for fifteen miles out – even in the dead of night," Edward says petulantly, trying to reassert his superiority.

That's pretty impressive. Seras can see in the dark, but not necessarily at greater distances. Ah, but she's got that third eye thing going. "Lets just see who finds the Major first, Mr. Sparkles," she says with a wink, and they both begin searching – Edward by visually scanning the island, and Seras by invoking her third eye to locate the Major.

After about ninety seconds and no sign of the Major, a flash from the rocky coast to the south catches Edward's eye. "Ah," he says, and his disappointment is evident. "The immunity idol. It's 'guaranteed to keep us here.'"

"Oh," Seras replies as she conjures the image of the idol and sees it perfectly, resting on a pile of rocks on the beach. "Well, guess we've got to get over there, then."

For a split second the two of them exchange a sly sideways glace, and then they simultaneously leap from the tree and tear across the island to the idol, each of them eager to claim first place for their particular breed of vampire.

* * *

"Thank you, Walter," Integra says as he holds a low hanging branch up for her. Even clad in her soiled and tattered shirt sleeves, with snarls taking residence in her long, blonde hair, Sir Hellsing has an air of nobility. She will always be the kind of person who has branches pulled aside for her.

"Not at all, sir," Walter answers. Even with what's quickly becoming a full-blown grey-flecked beard and a layer of grime over every inch of him, Walter is the consummate gentleman.

The two of them have been all business since the challenge began. Despite their lack of super-human speed, this intense focus is allowing them to keep up a decent pace. Right now they're looking for the _'serpent that feeds the sea.' _They've figured out that it's a creek or small river, and can hear a current coming from the west, so they're heading that way.

They are silent as they walk. Integra is pondering the clue they have to solve once they get there, but Walter is thinking about something else. "Sir Integra, I wonder if I may take this opportunity to offer my sincere apologies for that stunt I pulled during our game of Musical Chairs."

"Which stunt would that be?" Integra asks, looking back again at the clue, although she's not reading a damn word.

Walter knows she's only being evasive, but he'll play along. "The stunt where I elbowed you in the chin. It was completely uncalled for, and I deeply, deeply regret it, sir."

Integra gives an impatient wave of her hand and says succinctly. "You've already apologized for that Walter." _Right after you secured your seat_, she adds to herself.

"Sir, please," Walter says and stops walking. "I do not blame you in the least for being angry, but please do not act as if it was nothing. It was a terrible thing that I did. The game is no excuse. I forgot my place, my duty to you, sir Integra. I take that duty seriously, and my actions were unconscionable, but I hope…not unforgivable."

Integra had kept walking, but now stops and turns to Walter. "Walter, keep moving; we're losing valuable time." Her words are scolding, but there's something slightly desperate in her tone. She's never been one for gushy-goo-goo, but Walter's not going to let her brush this one off.

"Not until you address this satisfactorily," he says.

"Oh? And what about your duty to me? I'm ordering you to move," Integra says.

"My duty extends beyond mere orders, sir; they apply to your overall well-being. Harboring a grudge is not a healthy way to live. I have asked your forgiveness; will you grant it?"

Integra huffs and stares at the ground for a moment, then raises her eyes to Walter and says, "Yes, Walter. I forgive you. You acted irrationally in the heat of the moment, and I know you regret it. Now, can we please continue?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Walter says with a satisfied nod.

Integra tightens her mouth in what I suppose is meant to be a smile and turns to continue walking. She's far enough ahead that she must duck her own branches. "You know, Walter," she calls back, "in a sense, I am indebted to you for that incident. It helped to remind me of something."

"Really, sir. And what was that?" Walter asks, crunching the forest floor as he tries to catch up.

"I've been alone in this world for a long time. My parents died when I was just a girl, and since then I've been surrounded by people who only view me as a means to get something they want. You've been there for me since I was very young, always looking out for me, always there to listen to and encourage me. I suppose over time I've let you become more than a servant to me. You've filled that paternal void and…and I suppose I should thank you for reminding me that day on the beach that I was a fool to trust anybody but myself and the Almighty. I'm alone in this world, Walter. I must never forget that."

She ducks under the angled trunk of a fallen tree and doesn't look back to see the pained expression that settles in Walter's features.

* * *

It's nearing dusk, and the search through the field proves to be an endless game of Ring Around the Rosie, with Alucard leading Jasper in perpetual circles. Jasper feels like he's being forced to work with a dog that's not been trained for obedience. At this point, working alongside a real dog, like Jacob Black, would be a pleasure.

Suddenly, Alucard stops and Jasper nearly runs into him. Jasper watches as Alucard bends down and begins to push back grasses that have been carefully woven over an object. Despite the grass covering it, Jasper might have caught sight of the object, if he hadn't been too busy tuning out Alucard's taunts about his speed.

With the grass mesh torn away, Alucard reveals his prize -- a human skull. Drawn in red on the skull is a strange symbol. It's a complex image, which is actually a fusion of several stylized images; chief among them is a flame burning over the moon and a yin/yang symbol.

Jasper gazes on the skull. "That's a soyombo?"

The Hellsing vampire gazes on the skull proudly. "It's a symbol out of Mongolia. I know that you only like to study the Civil war, but if you'd paid attention to history you'd know that far Eastern symbols and religion were all the rage among extreme right wing movements. Both the symbol and the swastika were popular among the Nazis and other occult worshiping groups."

Jasper is unimpressed by Alucard's knowledge; he detects deceitful emotions coming off of him. "How long have you known about the location of this thing."

Alucard turns over the skull in his hands and rubs a finger on the elongated canines. "I knew it was there at least fifteen minutes ago. I could smell the blood that this holy Mongol symbol was written with."

Jasper is angered, but not shocked by Alucard's whimsy and capriciousness. For every minute they dally, Alice could be in danger.

He hears a dark chuckle from Alucard. "Little Alice is probably having the time of her life. Those Nazis are likely giving her the good, deep dicking that she so craves."

Jasper can't help himself; he begins to growl.

Alucard is as detached as ever. "I like growling; it's much scarier than hissing." Passing the skull from hand to hand, he squares up and faces his southern companion. "Yes, Alice is most likely enjoying a thorough pounding. It must be hard for her, having a husband with a limp prick."

This time Jasper's jaw drops. How did he-

"Despite my captivity, I still have quite a few connections on the outside. I simply hired a few friends to investigate you and your family the moment I heard about this little contest. These friends of mine proved their worth as investigators; I now know volumes about you and your family. Like how you haven't been able to fuck your wife since nineteen seventy-two."

Jasper is beyond angry now; Alucard has cut to the core of him and found out his dirty little secret.

Like a gladiator with the upper hand, Alucard attacks for all it's worth. "Really Jasper, why do they keep you around? What possible use could your family have for you? You've the weakest resistance to human blood, you've no compassion, you're useless to your wife, and you're useless as a brother and a son. Oh you can fight, but a fat lot of good your skills have done your family on this island."

Jasper is so mad that he's seeing red, and his butterscotch eyes have turned completely black. Alucard can feel Jasper's rage; he breaths it in like a sweet perfume.

Alucard continues to twist the knife. "You're the useless one; the afterbirth of the Cullen children. You're a useless sack of lying,"

Jasper grinds his teeth.

"_blood sucking,"_

He bows his legs into a leaping stance.

"_slave taking,"_

The cord snaps on Jasper's self control.

"_TEXAS DOGSHIT!!!"_

Jasper is so fast that it would require an entirely new type of camera to monitor his trajectory. Even to most vampires, he would only be a blur that perhaps Edward might be able to pass, but not by much.

Former Major of the Confederate Army Jasper Whitlock slams into former warlord and Prince Vlad Tepes with such force that the vampire skull in his hands disintegrates into atoms. The pair of them drives a deep trench into the island, uprooting trees and smashing the bedrock like it is only styrofoam.

Jasper and Alucard finally grind to a halt. Jasper has nothing on his mind but to punish this lustful, licentious son of the devil. He can feel Alucard's emotions, and under all his anger, he wishes that he could not. The emotions of the ancient creature known as Alucard are like a tar pit; it is bottomless, sticky filth that entraps everything that touches it.

But when he gazes upon Alucard's face, the Whitlock's emotion turns to horror. By some ancient magic or innate power of the vampyr, Alucard has adopted the visage of the one he provoked. Alucard's face now exactly resembles that of Jasper. No, not exactly.

Jasper sits stunned, staring at what is a distorted mirror image of his own handsomely rugged, yet somehow almost babyish features. But the eyes, which should be topaz, are now fiery ruby, red as blood, and what is supposed to be a perfect row of white teeth is more like a mountain range of broken bone, stained a sick yellow color. The scars, instead of being luminescent crescents visible only in direct sunlight, are ugly ridges that resemble hideous tumors. The long, blond hair is greasy and matted with sticky rust-colored patches and chunks of bone and teeth.

But even through this hideous distortion, not even a fool would fail to recognize it as a clone of Jasper. That is his small, perfect nose, his lush, dark-blond lashes and eyebrows; even the shape of the thin, pink mouth is his, but the hateful, leering grin that it twists into is all Alucard.

Alucard takes advantage of his opponent's shock to mock him yet more. "Awww, is the wittle baby scarred by his war experiences?"

Jasper is about to throw a fist into the daemon's grimace when he feels Alucard's foot connect with his midriff. All the wind leaves his lungs, and the Whitlock is launched high into the clear, peaceful twilight, which glows incongruously on this ghastly scene.

* * *

Edward reaches the idol first. It's lying amidst a pile of grey rocks with its crystal heart facing up, pulsating in the waning sunlight. Edward looks down on the haunting figure, and his lips press into a small, sad smile when he thinks of how creeped out little Alice was by the thing. But he pushes the thought aside; it won't lead to anything productive. Right now he needs to focus on the task at hand. Seras comes up behind him.

"I won," Edward preens, "hand over the map."

Seras grumbles and hands him the map, and asks, "Are we supposed to take the idol?"

Edward scans the list of clues. "It doesn't say to, but it doesn't say we can't, either."

The idol is security in this game; it's never bad to have it, so Seras reaches down, but before she can get a grip on the figure, something bursts out of the pile of rocks and slashes across the back of her hand. It burns, and she looks down to see blood seeping out of a long scrape. The thing that did this to her crouches next to the idol and growls at her. Actually, it's more like a hiss, and it's coming from a puff of gray fur with long ears and a button nose. But the tiny, rabbity lips are pulled back over a wicked set of fangs.

"Ew," Seras says as she looks at it. "I didn't know rabbits got so angry, or that they had such sharp teeth."

"You better stand back," Edward says, sounding very much as if he should've tacked a 'little lady' onto the end of that. "Unstet don't bleed, and nothing can pierce my skin."

He leans down and scoops up the idol. He turns to give Seras a condescending wink when the rabid creature launches itself forward. It latches onto the idol, yanks it out of Edward's hand, and takes off with it in a flash across the shoreline, disappearing into the trees.

"Aaugh!" Edward utters in an uncharacteristic groan. Seras looks and sees that the idol wasn't all the rabbit took – four of Edward's fingers are missing.

She throws her hand to her mouth, but fails to suppress a snort. "Oh," she says laughingly, "So nothing can pierce your skin, but an ickle bunny wabbit can rip limbs off?"

His fingers fell off into the rocks and are now creeping along like pale, fat inchworms back to him. Edward walks over and picks them up with his good hand, and begins jamming them back onto the stumps of the other. "Finger's aren't limbs, and that was no ickle bunny wabbit…"

"Leon warned us that the Major would have booby traps around the island," Seras recalls. "I wonder if that was one of them."

"Yeah, well, at least the booby trap didn't run off with the clues. Let's get moving before there's any more surprise attacks."

They work through several more clues, taking whatever opportunities they can to show off their relative skills, and eventually wind up on a ledge about halfway up a cliff at the edge of the sea. Edward reads the clue:

'_The laws of gravity are not your friend; one false step could be your end._

_If you are looking for something to save ya; keep an eye out for the symbol of Mongolia_.'

Edward scoffs at the gross misuse of iambic pentameter…or something like that…and then looks out at the ledge they are to follow. The ridge grows ever narrower until it's only a few inches wide, not even as wide as Seras's tiny feet. "How's your balance," he asks, arching his eyebrow in a challenge.

Seras is staring down at the waves slapping the base of the rock. She gulps and answers, "M-my balance is fine, but my swimming's n-not so good."

With the way they've been ribbing each other, Edward nearly gives her a dig about her aquatic shortcoming, but when he understands her real fear, he changes his tone. "You can do this, Seras. You have excellent balance; that's all you need. The water won't even be an issue."

Seras nods and swallows. "What's do you suppose this last part of the clue means? The thing that's going to save us?"

"The symbol of Mongolia – the soyombo. It's a stack of shapes edged by two thin rectangles. It'll be unmistakable out here. We'll just have to keep-" Seras is starting to become overwhelmed with the thought of what's ahead of them "-_I'll_ keep an eye out for it, since I know what it is. You just focus on your balance…okay?"

"Okay," Seras says, steeling her confidence. She's certainly been in more precarious situations than this. She'll get through it.

They walk agilely along the ridge until they have to flatten their backs against the wall to of rock to stay balanced. Seras is in front, Edward behind. They keep their hands out to the side, palms also flattened to the rough surface, helping them to negotiate the various protrusions and divots. The waves boom as they smash into the rock far below them, and Seras bites her lip. She's trying desperately to fight off an impending panic. It's caused not only by her current situation, but by the mental connection she keeps with her master. He is suddenly seething with a raging animosity, and it's so strong that it's affecting her ability to concentrate.

Edward's fingertips brush up against hers, gently so they don't startle her. As the two vampires move slowly along the ledge, he slides his reattached fingers over and weaves them into Seras's. "I won't let you fall," he promises, and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Seras doesn't take her eyes off the wall ahead of her, but Edward's grip and his soothing voice do much to comfort her. She lets his confidence seep into her, lets it cover the violence coming from her master, and she knows that she's going to be alright. As she creeps along the ledge, she reflects that Edward Cullen is the kind of guy who could really take care of a girl…if that's what a girl wanted. And right now, that's exactly what Seras Victoria wants.

* * *

Walter and Integra are working shockingly well together. The clues are more brain than brawn, so they are doing just fine at keeping pace with the others. Right now they stand in a grassy clearing as Walter reads the last clue.

'_The friendship of two is stronger than stone walls,_

_and the mutual complement of man and woman_

_will allow you to defeat interior and exterior enemies._

_Look to father sky, _

_and top it off with eternal growth, wealth, and success.'_

They silently consider the clue, and then Walter murmurs, "'The friendship of two is stronger than stone walls'…it sounds like something from a fortune cookie, a Chinese proverb."

"Yes – it is a proverb," Integra concurs. "But not Chinese – Mongolian."

"Mongolian?" Walter asks, giving Integra and impressed, but puzzled look. He didn't realize that his boss would make such distinctions between the Eastern religions.

"Yes, I remember it from Gresham School – looks like it wasn't a complete waste of time, after all," she says with an ironic smirk at Walter, who'd been the one to insist she attend the boarding school, very much against her fifteen-year-old will.(2) "But still, how does that help us?" she asks, returning to seriousness. She looks down and reads the next part of the clue. "Mutual complement of man and woman – Yin and Yang?"

"Makes sense," Walter says. "I wonder…" his voice trails off as he reads the rest of the clue. "Why, I believe this is describing the national symbol of Mongolia – the soyombo. The two walls and the yin and yang are represented, and it has two down-pointing triangles, which symbolize arrows, I believe, for fighting enemies. 'Father sky'…I'm not sure about that…but 'eternal growth, wealth, and success' are traditionally represented by fire, and the soyombo is topped by a flame. "

"Looks like we need to find ourselves a soyombo," Integra says with a smile.

* * *

Higher and higher Jasper spins into the wild purple yonder. Up here it's blessedly free of all emotion except his own. In a way, he enjoys the spinning, disorienting peace of this high altitude. Until all of a sudden, he is blindsided by a powerful blow that sends him rocketing back to the volcanic island's vista.

Like a sparkling meteor, Jasper lands with a boom in the crater of the extinct volcano. Though the smooth volcanic stone around him has been pulverized, Jasper himself is unharmed. His brief rest is interrupted when Alucard lands atop of him, still wearing the face of Jasper Whitlock. Jasper tries to shut his eyes, but finds that he can't look away from the nightmarish mask of himself.

Alucard looks like the devil; his nostrils flare, his breathing is heavy, and he foams pink at the mouth. He sprays Jasper with the diseased pink foam as words explode out of his throat. "You _fool_! Do you not see it? I **_want_ **to be taken next. I _want_ to fail this challenge."

His voice seems to come from all directions, and it holds Jasper hostage. "_**I am Alucard!!! I never run, and none can escape my wrath for long!**_"

The emotions coming off of Alucard are like a fire: unstoppable, all consuming and gluttonous. The heat coming from his rage and lust is so great that it would send Lucifer and all the daemons of hell to their knees, begging for mercy

He yanks on Jasper's collar so that they can be truly face to face. As he speaks, his neck muscles strain like steel cables against the confines of the red cravat. "You see that fat Major; how he smiles? When I get my gloved hands on him, he will _squeal_ like a **_bitch_ **and beg for me to deliver him to whatever hell awaits him."

Behind Alucard, the afterglow of the sun is the color of war: red. It accents perfectly his coat and his eyes. "He will be my new toy, and I'll break him in _**doggy **style._" As he says this, his long, pointed tongue briefly flashes over his chapped lips. "Perhaps I'll break him one, two, three or maybe even **_four_ **times before I decide to get to the good stuff. As I plunder and shatter the fat little turd, we will be watched by an audience composed of the severed and mutilated heads of his most loyal followers. It will take **_hours_** for his men to die by my cruel hand and blade!"

Jasper finally understands what Alucard truly is. He's not a man, a dog or a monster. He's something else entirely. He is the rawest savage in the most primitive jungle, feasting on the bones of a defeated enemy. He is the crudest barbarian, raping man, women and babies as the urge takes him. He is an unbroken rabid wolf, fearless, hungry and imbued with all the craft and guile of earth and heaven. Primeval, bestial, vicious, and unbroken; these words and more describe just what Alucard is. And right now he's on top of poor, unwitting Jasper Whitlock.

Once more that voice takes Jasper as prisoner. "**Do you see this, boy_?_**" Jasper can't help but look as he sees Jaspercard open his coat to reveal the missiles that the gang stole from Leon Kennedy. Though he doesn't express it, Jasper is surprised and impressed. The missiles are all connected by a length of wire. Having studied explosives and demolition without his mother's approval, he can see that Alucard has taken the five missiles under his coat and turned them into one large bomb.

"**Did you think me idle? Did you think me a dullard? While you played the fool for this pathetic last battalion, I worked to make mine enemies a little surprise.**"

Alucard holds the detonator in his hand, conjured as if by a magician's trick. It's a simple device but ingenious, made from a simple household remote control. "**I possess the sum power of modern knowledge and all the hellish eldritch magic of yesteryear. My magic words are more potent than any, and my scientific knowledge is rivaled only by my power to will. I am-**"

Alucard can't finish his speech, because a small, grey object suddenly flies out of the shadows and begins clawing at Jaspercard's borrowed facial features.

Immediately, Alucard starts to scream like a little girl. A little girl with a mouth like a truck driver. "Oh, Jesus! I'm fucking blind!"

Whatever is attacking Alucard has broken Jasper free of Alucard's devilish powers. Immediately, the blond Unstet gets up and surveys his surroundings. They are in the volcanic crater. The fading rays of the dusk are pouring through the hole in the mountain's side that was created by his fall.

Now that he's free of Alucard's voodoo, he feels emotions rolling from across the cave he finds himself in. There at the far end of the cave and just at the edge of the inner wall of the crater is a large wooden crate. Burned into its side is an oversized swastika.

* * *

Edward and Seras are specks in the middle of a sheer, vertical sheet of rock that is constantly slapped by black angry waves below. They're trying to keep their balance while progressing along the minuscule ledge. Seras's hand slides across the rock in front of her and unexpectedly dips into a deep crevice. In an instinctive move to compensate for her hand slipping back, the rest of her body leans forward. The small movement is enough to throw her delicate balance off, and she starts to fall. Edward pulls with all his strength on her other hand, still locked in his, and slams his other hand into the rock to keep from being pulled down by her momentum.

Seras shrieks and turns away from Edward, as if to grasp onto the smooth, uncooperative cliff with her free hand and sees it – a red soyombo symbol painted inside the crevice.

* * *

After a thorough search of the clearing, Walter and Integra have moved deeper into the darkening forest.

"Here it is, sir," Walter calls out to his boss. Integra comes to him, and he gestures at the symbol, which has been painted in red on the trunk of a thick tree.

"Now what?" Integra wonders. They look back to the clue. "'Look to father sky,'" she reads, and they both crook their necks and look up. At the top of the tree, directly above them and supported only by brittle branches, is a large, heavy-looking wooden crate. Burned into the sides are the distinctive markings of a large Swastika.

A low groaning sounds from above, and then one of the branches snaps.

.

.

**Footnotes:**

(1) Lyrics from "Sucker"; written by Lemmy, Phil Campbell and Mikkey Dee; performed by Motörhead

(2) The reflection on Integra's school days is a nod to **Metropolis Kid's** very fun story, aptly titled: Integra's School Daze. Also, the earlier image of a tattered Integra still carrying an air of Nobility was inspired by a scene in another story of his, the intriguing "Butterfly Effect."

.

**Author's Note: **I've taken up quite enough of your time, so let me leave off with a simple thank you to you all for coming back and reading. I hope you found this chapter worth your while. And big, huge, enormous thanks to Master of the Boot, the very best butler a Batgirl could hope for. You could totally tell which duo was his, right? And don't worry -- he'll be back for the next chapter to see Jasper and Alucard through this challenge. :D


	14. a great deal of violence

_This chapter is co-written with Master of the Boot_

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Chapter 14

The chapter in which there is a great deal of violence

High on the sheer cliff, Seras is hurtling towards the red soyombo. The crevice in the stone wall is larger than she'd initially realized; large enough for her body to slide through, even with all of her extra accoutrements. She uses her toes on the ledge as leverage and pushes herself through the opening. Once Edward sees that she's no longer in danger of falling into the sea, he releases her hand and Seras disappears inside the cliff, falling onto rocky ground inside.

A few rocks drop from above her as Edward yanks his hand loose from the stone outside. He steps in behind Seras and stoops under the low ceiling. He sees that they are in some sort of tunnel that extends deeper into the mountain.

He looks down to the paper and reads in the deep grayness of the cave. "There are no more clues. It simply says: 'Viel glück' – good luck."

Seras gets up. She's barely able to stand erect, and her ponytail brushes against the rock ceiling. "Well, the symbol led us here, so I guess we need to follow this tunnel?"

Edward nods. "It would seem so."

Seras leads and they step further into the ever darker tunnel. As they move along, Edward hears voices. They are a low murmur, indistinct, but rhythmic.

"Seras," he says in warning.

Seras stops. "What is it?" She doesn't hear anything. Edward is reading thoughts…thoughts of somebody else in the cave.

"We're not alone," he informs Seras, and they both instinctively square their shoulders and flex their arms, ready for anything. Their cautious, deliberate progress through the tunnel becomes more panther-like and less human. The thoughts are becoming stronger, and now Seras also senses another presence. "There's more than one of them," Edward cautions. It's hard to say exactly how many; their thoughts are unified, but…but my guess is up to a dozen."

"A dozen what?" Seras asks; this presence is unlike anything she's ever felt before.

Edward can now make out distinct words to the song they are singing in their heads:

'_Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit für das deutsche Vaterland!  
Danach lasst uns alle streben brüderlich mit Herz und Hand!'__(1)_

"A dozen beings loyal to the Third Reich," Edward answers grimly.

The flesh on Seras's arm prickles as the tunnel opens to a wide, stone room. At the opposite end of the cavern, she sees a large wooden crate. Burned into the sides is a huge swastika.

'_Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit sind des Glückes Unterpfand --  
blüh im Glanze dieses Glückes, blühe, deutsches Vaterland.'__(2)_

* * *

Jasper turns away from the mystery crate to look again at Alucard fighting with the small grey object. After much cursing and hopping around, Alucard finally manages to yank it off his face and throw it to the ground. The creature lands on its feet and tenses its haunches. Jasper sees grey fur, long fangs, red eyes and . . .long rabbit ears?

Jasper lets out a chuckle, but Alucard is less than amused by the little vampy critter. He grunts in pain and rubs his rapidly healing eyes, which only a moment ago had been gouged out by the bunny. His vision clears and the rabbit and the No-Life King size each other up.

The whole scenario is so bizarre that Jasper can't help but ask, "Are you afraid of that rabbit?"

Alucard looks up in mock surprise. "Do you think that's a rabbit? Oh no, my friend, that's not a rabbit." Gracefully, Alucard reaches into his duster and starts to pull out a double-barreled shotgun, which is fully loaded. "It's a bull's-eye." He beams as he aims his twelve-gauge gun at the vampire rabbit. In about thirty seconds, Bugs Bunny will join Daffy Duck in hell.

Just as Alucard squeezes the double triggers, something materializes in front of him. The shotgun pellets harmlessly deflect off the solid chest of Jasper Whitlock, who has intercepted the gunshot on behalf of the rabbit. Alucard can only stare in shock as Jasper grabs his gun and smashes it against the stone walls of the volcano's interior.

This is an outrage! Alucard could never have anticipated this move in a million years. He continues to stare at Whitlock at a loss for words. He thought that he could anticipate every emotion and response of the so-called warrior. He thought that Jasper was nothing more than a dog, a spineless creature that existed only because of the will of others.

He _is_ a dog -- the mongrel does not even abstain of human blood by his own desire; he merely follows the trends set by his family. Why then does he stop Alucard from extracting his petty vengeance on this creature? He cannot fathom Jasper's motive for denying him this small sadistic pleasure. Is it perhaps that Alucard's overly simplistic worldview of men, dogs and monsters cannot account for all the complexities of the natures of vampire and man? Or is it simply that Alucard cannot have known that someone would dare to defy him after he had struck fear into their hearts?

When Alucard does find words, they're hardly profound or mysterious, "How dare you! That gun was a gift from the North London Mafia."

"Why would the North London Mafia give you a gift?" Jasper asks. But really, he's only half surprised by anything the Nosferatu says anymore. What's more surprising is that he'd been able to sneak the weapon past CBS security on the way in.

As the two speak, the vampire rabbit begins to hop towards the big wooden box on the crater's edge.

Ignoring his prey, Alucard smiles as if Jasper were an idiot, and says enticingly, "For reasons that you're better off not knowing."

Jasper's attention is caught by the bunny, and he follows it towards the mystery box. He's suddenly aware of an excitement radiating from the crate. By the level and variation of the emotion, his gift tells him that the box contains about ten or eleven people.

Alucard is not blind to Jasper's diverted attention. He senses the alien presence, as well, but only feels disappointment that the Major would resort to something as boring as ghoul-like creatures to entertain him. He's having much more fun taunting the Cullen boy. He chases after him while raising his voice. "That's right; I have secret dealings with the Mafia. Illicit things…if you're ever in need of top-grade marijuana…" He expects the comment about the weed to grab Jasper's attention, but it fails.

Alucard finally catches up to Jasper. The red light, the last gasp of sun, coming through the opening in the cave causes Jasper to sparkle red. It's a fitting color scheme. The pair stands twenty feet away from the box as the vampire rabbit scratches and gnaws at the sides of it.

Jasper communicates with Alucard free of emotion. "There are people in that box. I think you should go first." He knows that they need to get into the box, but he deduces that whatever is inside might possibly be dangerous.

Alucard sniffs in distaste for a moment and then starts to laugh. "Ha! You're learning a few lessons from me; I like that." The Nosferatu casually struts his stuff over to the box, black hair flowing freely and eyes blazing red.

When Alucard is about six paces from the box, a sound is heard from within. It's the sound of a musket being cocked.

Jasper and Alucard both stiffen at the noise, but neither can react before something amazing happens. Something, some kind of shiny projectile, shoots out of the wood container. It zips through the air so fast that even Alucard can barely track its movements. The magic bullet turns around one hundred and eighty degrees in mid-flight and strikes the vampire bunny. The rabbit is torn to shreds but Jasper can't tell if the rabbit is dead or not. If it truly is a vampire and the heart is intact, then the rabbit will survive.

Twisting and turning in a midair ballet, the magic bullet jerks this way and that before it strikes Alucard in the head, reducing his over-inflated noggin to a gory mist. Alucard's headless body falls and is struck by the magic bullet at least a dozen more times before it finally hits the ground. Alucard must have spirited his bombs into a kind of null space, because he does not explode...yet.

Jasper tries to run, but even his thousand-and-one-foot-per-second speed is not enough to evade this strange projectile. Before he can blink his topaz eyes, the magic bullet strikes him dead in the heart. The force of the impact causes Jasper to slam against a cave wall. The bullet twists and turns several times in insane patterns before it strikes Jasper again, this time through his lower back and out his stomach.

The cave rumbles from Jasper's impact; several tons of volcanic rock land on top of him. Effortlessly, he throws the dark grey stone off of him and assesses the damage to his body. The entry wound of the magic bullet is small, but the exit wounds are the size of bowling balls. He can feel that several of his ribs are shattered, and the muscles below his left shoulder blade and in his abdomen are obliterated. On the floor in front of him he can see the missing pieces of himself scattered around like shards of statue. Except that shards of statue don't crawl towards each other and unite to form larger pieces.

Jasper immediately begins to run towards the pieces and shove them into the new holes in his body. The venom that courses through the body of every Unstet also functions as superglue to hold dismembered body parts in place long enough for them to reattach. Almost immediately, Jasper feels shards of his body moving around and fitting into place. The muscles and bones will fully heal in two to five minutes, depending on Jasper's level of physical activity. He can only hope that it's two instead of five.

Once more, Jasper appraises the situation. The giant wooden "prize" falls apart and shows its deadly content. In the back, there are ten figures dressed in the uniforms of the Waffen SS, the elite fighting force of the Nazi regime. But these are not human fighters; their hearts do not beat, yet neither are they ghouls as Alucard had thought. Their teeth are sharp like razors and their eyes are bloody red. There is no mistaking that they are, in fact, vampires, and they're armed with rocket launchers and machine guns with incendiary ordinance. They've come with the right weapons necessary to kill an Unstet. One in the back is hauling around a massive flamethrower that is meant to be carried on a vehicle.

The leader of the group is a musket-wielding woman in a man's suit. She looks at Jasper and says, "Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor; my varhead vill punish all vithout distinction."

It's the lamest thing Jasper has ever heard.

* * *

Walter and Integra leap in opposite directions to avoid the enormous crate that is plunging down to earth straight towards them. The ground shakes and wood cracks and splinters as it makes impact with the forest floor. But more terrifying than the thunderous noise is the crate's contents, now revealed as the eight-foot walls fall away.

There's no crazy fräuleinwith a musket, but other than that, Walter and Integra's "prize" is virtually identical to that of Jasper and Alucard's: men – or what _used_ to be men – with glowing red eyes and mouths stretched into gruesome smiles that reach almost to their jawbones and open to rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth. They all wear cropped, military haircuts, except for one, who has long, ropey dreadlocks hanging loose beneath his stahlhelm helmet.

Integra's rapier, _borrowed_ from Leon and now strapped to her hip, and Walter's wires are paltry defense for the wartime arsenal they are suddenly faced with. Integra dives behind a large rock nearby, and Walter ducks his skinny body behind a tree, but these shields can only be expected to protect them for so long. The Nazi vampires raise their weapons and blast away at the rock and the tree, one straight line of five soldiers marching toward each. They'll not be satisfied until every square inch of the Hellsing heir and servant is obliterated.

But these guys aren't the brightest bulbs in the chandelier and don't account for what's going to happen to the top portion of the tall tree as they disintegrate its base. The thick trunk falls forward and crashes through the branches of surrounding trees, slamming to the ground and taking down three of the vampires that are blasting at the rock. The five shooting the tree are undaunted, and rush the decimated stump with their bayonet-tipped Ak-103 Kalashnikov assault rifles to poke at what's left of Walter.

Trouble is, Walter isn't there. He'd deftly dropped and rolled before their bullets could penetrate the trunk, and he's now halfway up one of the nearby trees. Before the vampires can figure where he's gotten off to, his wires whip down and slice off two of their heads, sending a splatter of blood onto their three comrades. Said comrades pull back their rifles and scan the area. They look up, down, and all around. One locks eyes with Walter. The vampire's lethal grin widens as he raises his barrelhead toward his target. The gun is ripped from his grip by one bionic wire, and a burning sensation flashes clean through his torso. The top half of the Nazi thuds to the ground, and the bottom half takes a couple instinctive steps forward before falling to the ground and spilling its putrid guts. Walter spins the rifle up to him like a fancy yo-yo trick, and perches in the branches, taking aim at his two remaining foes.

Meanwhile, Integra's protective boulder has been shrinking chunk by chunk, but when three of her attackers are temporarily incapacitated by the falling tree, she uses the opportunity to kick with all her might and shove the rock into the kneecaps of the remaining two, throwing them off balance. She leaps up and pierces the chest of one of her assailants, sending him to his knees. Blood gushes out of his chest as she withdraws her weapon. She's met her target, and if these vampires follow the rules of the Nosferatu, he won't be getting up again.

She quickly slams the side of her blade into the barrel of her other assailant's rifle, but the thin slice of silver does nothing more than annoy the Nazi soldier. He swings his weapon into the side of Integra's head and knocks her to the ground. Because of the strength of the blow, she is slow to recover, and by the time her head clears, the vampire is directly above her, pressing his bayonet tip to her throat. Any movement on the young knight's part will result in a fatal slit.

The undead soldier looks down on her with its red eyes opened wide in an eager glare. He looks like a rabid Rottweiler getting ready to chomp on a tasty bone. Thick saliva foams around his fang-like teeth and drips, dropping warmly onto Integra's face. He's not going to shoot this one or stab her. Oh no, he's going to drink her. He was in that crate for a long damn time, and he's thirsty.

The moment the pressure of the blade eases up, Integra bats the rifle away, feeling it scratch a shallow slice across her throat, and thrusts the rapier up. She pierces through the vampire's soft belly and up into its ribcage. The thing takes a step back, and Integra is pulled up with the motion. She pulls back on her weapon, but it doesn't budge. It appears to have become wedged between two of the monster's ribs. Integra yanks and yanks, trying to free it, but she's merely giving her attacker a good tickling as his torso is jerked back and forth with every pull. It tires of the game and reaches out, grasping Integra's wrist and thrusting her fingers off the hilt.

The vampire pulls her closer and closer to its dripping, menacing mouth, and Integra struggles like hell against it; being bitten by a vampire is not on her list of things to do in this lifetime. But this motherfucker is strong. It's got both her shoulders in its slimy hands now, and she's pressing her forearms against his chest with all that remains of her fleeting strength, but she's not going to be able to keep his mouth off of her already bleeding neck for much longer. She gasps and grunts and does all she can to not scream as inch by inch, her struggle appears more futile.

And then its face disappears before her eyes. Its forehead, nose and lips inexplicably peel off, and Integra is now staring at a mass of slaughtered pulp surrounding a now enormous-looking jawbone filled with white daggers. Her face contorts in a repulsed grimace, and she feels the weight of the gore and flesh that have jumped from her attacker's face to hers.

The thing still grips her shoulders like a vice and continues to pull her towards it. She grunts and pushes and suddenly, the vampire's body unexpectedly yields under her struggle and falls easily backwards. Most of it falls backwards, that is, but the arms have been severed from the torso and hang at Integra's sides as its fingers continue to cling to her shoulders. She digs her nails under the persistent fingers, pries them loose and throws them on the ground. The emancipated fingers twitch like spasmodic spiders on the forest floor, and Integra feels a long strip of the vampire's flesh slide and drop off of her chin.

Without losing a millisecond, the Hellsing knight stomps one foot on her assailant's ribcage, and yanks her weapon free. Then she plunges it back in, surely stabbing through the heart this time.

"Excellent job, sir. Walter praises, surveying the chop suey they've made of the vampire. "Sorry it took me so long to get here."

"Better late than never," Integra responds nonchalantly as she slides the rapier from the beast. She notes the rifle that Walter is holding and says, "Couldn't you have just shot it?"

"Out of ammo," Walter says with a shrug.

A flurry of leaves rustle and wood splinters with a loud crack. Master and servant spin on their heels to see that the three Nazi vampires that were previously smashed under the tree are reanimating, trusty assault rifles in hand.

* * *

Since she is the only one in the group with a musket, Jasper can conclude that she is the source of the magic bullet. Even so, she is not the only threat of the group, and he is eager to get out of their weapons' range.

Jasper leaps from the spot so fast that he almost appears to fly. He does so just in time to avoid a burst of aerosol napalm from the flame thrower. The blast of fire is slower than a bullet, but with its mushrooming effect it has an equal chance of hitting him. The blast of fire lights up the cave almost as if it's being lit by the noon sun.

Quickly finding cover, Jasper ducks behind a stalagmite. The cave is large, but there are only so many places to hide. At best the volcanic outcroppings can provide only temporary cover against the weapons of the FREAK soldiers not forty yards from Jasper's position. Right on schedule, a hail of incendiary bullets rains on Jasper's hiding spot, quickly reducing it to white-hot rubble as the phosphorous bullets unleash their hellish heat.

Jasper suffers only minor wounds from their guns; he has smoldering streaks running across his left side. The wounds are purely superficial and aren't even worth noting. His tactical mind begins to run through options and alternative battle tactics. He knows that the two main threats are the magic bullet marksman and the flamethrower operator, the more dangerous of the two being the marksman.

He can estimate that now the marksman is reloading her musket, and soon she'll be ready to fire. The only disadvantage that her weapon has is its slow reload time, and Jasper plans to exploit that before she does some more serious damage.

Casting his sharp gaze around, Jasper notices a fault line from his end of the irregular shaped cave to the high ceiling. As he raises his fist above his head, he almost regrets the damage he's about to do to this beautiful cave.

The FREAK soldiers are having fun, they've been told that their enemy sparkles in the sunlight, and so they assume that he'll be easy prey. The flamethrower operator busies himself with igniting Alucard's headless carcass, laughing like a child as he does so. Really, they're almost disappointed that Alucard was taken down so easily.

The FREAKs shout to their leader, "Lead us, _Obersturmfuhrer Rip Van Winkle_; lead us to kill the sparkling heretic." Yes, the Major has told his troops about the Cullens' refusal to partake of human blood and their overall concern for human life. Needless to say, the Nazi soldiers are angered and offended by these claims. To think that such creatures call themselves vampires!

Rip is almost finished loading her gun when she hears a thundering noise in the cave coming from the direction of their sparkling quarry. To her surprise, she sees a fissure opening up in the roof of the cave, spreading from where Jasper struck.

Some of the smarter soldiers jump out of the way, but one of them is not so lucky. Massive boulders start to fall from the ceiling as parts of it fall in. One FREAK is crushed like a bug, splattered into a puddle of gore. Even with advanced regeneration, he won't be getting up from that.

The Nazi vampires all howl with rage at one of their own being slain by such a laughable foe. Their howls are cut short when Jasper grabs a boulder the size of a hummer and charges at them, using the rock as a shield.

Rip Van Winkle barely jumps out of the way before being hit by the impossibly fast-moving rock face. The boulder must weigh at least three or four tons of the metric variety. Rip Van Winkle can barely manage lifting a single metric ton, but this creature is running with at least triple that. It would seem that he's not so laughable after all. She must be extra careful and kill him now.

Jasper grits his teeth as the flamethrower Nazi tries to turn him into Southern barbecue, but the broad face of the volcanic rock shields him. The heat from the flames is enough to instantly melt the skin off of a human or a softer vampire, but Jasper suffers literally no damage. His sparkling Unstet skin is fire resistant. Without either being first dismembered or the use of a chemical accelerant, the hottest fire would take seven years to burn him completely.

Wanting to give the flamethrower Nazi a stern lesson, Jasper hurls the rock forward. He ignores the pain from his healing wounds in his chest and stomach. While his companions jump out of the way as if lifted by anti-gravity belts, the flamethrower operator is weighed down by his heavy weapon and takes the full impact, shattering close to every bone in his body. He is grievously injured, but his weapon hasn't exploded. The operator will heal and will fight the sparkling faker.

"Faker? Rather hypocritical of you, wouldn't you say?" The musical, baritone voice frightens the operator. He can't even let out a scream before a pair white gloved hands grabs him by the throat and drags him into the darkness.

Jasper dodges and weaves the hail of gunfire. The FREAKs are enraged, but they're so mad now that they've forgotten their military discipline and have become nothing more than an angry mob that Jasper will be able to pick off one by one. Trying to get a good look at her enemy, Rip Van Winkle screams for her men to get back in rank, but in their livid fury they don't even hear her.

Jasper is using his empathic power against these FREAKs, turning their own warrior spirit against them. He didn't survive the vampire wars in the south simply because he was the best fighter or the best tactician. It's true that he was a great fighter and a good tactician, one of the finest, but evolution has shown that being the fittest is no guarantee of survival. By mastering his empathic power and using it for something other than calming people down, Jasper had been able to gain an edge over his enemies and win. Batman has his utility belt and Jasper Cullen has his emotional powers.

Rip can't get a good sight on the enemy, and if she can't get a bead on her enemy then she'll risk having the magic bullet miss. The magic bullet never misses, but an un-aimed gun never hits what you want it to.

Suddenly, the Unstet leaps in front of her, causing a mini quake as his heavy weight slams into the floor of the cavern. She would shoot him, except that she's suddenly shot by several of her own men. Their incendiary rounds were designed to punch through the dense bone and muscle of the Unstet species and go right through Rip. She can't help but scream as the white hot bullets burn through her.

Taking advantage of Rip's pain, Jasper slashes at her. Fortunately for Rip, a few of her men retain at least a little of their arms training and shoot the Unstet scum.

Jasper surpasses the growl of pain that builds up in his now half-healed stomach. In order to avoid more potentially devastating hits, he jumps up and clings to the ceiling. Instead of staying on the ground to pick off Jasper, the enraged FREAKs jump after him, hoping for a bit of personal glory in close-quarter combat. Ah yes, the ability to read and manipulate emotions is a potent power, indeed.

Nevertheless, Jasper knows that his power can only buy him so much win. He needs to get out of this cave, and fast. In this enclosed environment, he'll be at a disadvantage against foes that have him constantly in their line of sight. He also needs to dig the incendiary bullets out of his arm. If he doesn't, he might lose his entire arm to the white phosphorous projectiles.

Besides the pain from his arm, there is another feeling that has him worried. He can feel Alucard's emotions again. It's like having an ice cube inside of his brain. The overwhelming, pitiless fury that he has come to associate with Alucard feels familiar, yet different. The madness is now reined in by a cunning and brutal sanity, and this frightens Jasper even more than when the rage ran free.

Rip looks at Jasper, feeling pain from her gunshot wounds and strangely from her hands. The sparkling faker hangs from the ceiling; his hands dig into the stone like it's plastacine. Rip's men fight him like a mob of drunken fools instead of trained soldiers of the Reich.

The filth stops to dig the bullets out of his arm, ripping away most of his bicep and upper forearm in the process. This is Rip's chance to kill him for good. Raising her musket and smiling with her pointed teeth and bright, blue eyes, Rip utters to herself, "My varhead vill punish all vithout distinction." But nothing happens. What is going on? Rip looks down at her gun. Oh, that's what's wrong.

When Jasper had lunged at her, he used his harder-than-steel fingernails to slice the trigger, middle and ring finger off of each Rip's hands. Now she only has a thumb and pinkie on each hand, totally useless for firing a gun.

It is then that Rip can hear a sound. It sounds like somebody is screaming. Or is it singing? It's almost too horrible to be singing, but that's what it is:

_Your shindig's kinda boring  
Shall I spike the punch with cyanide?  
I gotta warn you - You'll need a coroner tonight_

_If you see me, better flee me  
If you hear me, better fear me  
I help you from the fryer into the fire__! (__3)_

That musical baritone voice sings. Clouds cover the night sky, blocking the moon's glow through the hole that Jasper and Alucard created. Now the cave is lit only by the burning pools of napalm from the earlier flamethrower blasts.

* * *

A song of a different type – the sieg heil type – hums through Edward's brain in a cave across the island.

"We've got to get this crate back to the beach?" Seras says.

"We've got to get the _contents_ back to the beach," Edward corrects. "And I get the feeling they aren't going to stay neatly packaged for us."

As he says it, a thunderous droning rips through the cave and the walls of the crate shudder and shake. Edward's acute vision makes out every single quarter-sized hole that tears through the wooden box. The holes multiply by the second, melting into each other until the entire crate is disintegrated into dust, revealing another set of Nazi vampires amidst the blazing smoke of their weaponry. Each one is equipped with a good old-fashioned rotating-barrel gattling gun, complete with eight barrels and a massive ammo-pack strapped to its back. They are a formidable lot.

Seras dives back into the tunnel they emerged from, but Edward is undaunted by the attack and marches straight at them. Round after round of bullets rip away at his overpriced Hollister tee and Abercrombie cargo shorts until they're nothing more than shreds clinging to his sculpted physique. The bullets sting, and leave small, pale welts on his ivory flesh, but they ping right off. As he gets closer, the impact of the bullets pushes him slightly back. He pauses to steady himself, but then begins moving towards them again. As he gets closer, the stinging is more intense, but he sets his jaw and marches on. He'd refused any weapons from Leon's cache, said that he was naturally equipped to fight the enemy, but he's seriously rethinking the wisdom of that refusal.

One of the gunmen produces a grenade. But not just any grenade -- it's loaded with blessed bits of silver and shards that are supposedly from the axe of St. Bonafice, patron Saint of Germany. Such a grenade will do nothing to Edward other than to give him a migraine and maybe a few unsightly pockmarks that will linger for an hour or so, but it's just the kind of thing to make a pile of goo out of Seras, the grenade's intended target.

The gunman tosses the blessed weapon, but Edward, seeing his plan, leaps to the side and catches it. It only takes him a millisecond to toss it back at the Nazis and drop to the ground and take cover. The mini bomb goes off and the soldier it landed closest to explodes into a red splatter. The nine remaining gunmen are now strewn about the cave, but any wounds they suffered are already starting to heal.

One soldier has landed right next to Edward, his helmet has been blown off and his weapon knocked across the room. It's the first good look Edward is getting at one of these guys. There is a modestly greenish cast to its complexion; its eyes are red, its teeth sharp, like the pointed edges of a serrated knife, and Edward understands that this, as well as its comrades, is a vampire of sorts, although he can't quite make out its origin. There is something vaguely familiar about the roundness of this one's gruesome, yet somehow babyish features, something oddly sentimental about the carefully arranged pale-blond spikes of his hair.

The vampire-of-sorts knows exactly who Edward Cullen is. Cullen is the son-of-a-bitch that stole his girl.

"Newton?" Edward says, feeling a bit like Leisl when she first saw young Rolf dolled up in his Nazi uniform. "You've got to be kid-"

He's cut off – quite literally – when a titanium axe wielded by one of the super-strong vamps hacks off his right arm. He spins and grasps the weapon's handle with his left hand, ripping it free. He's not exactly sure how to kill one of these things, but he hears its internal shriek: "_Not my head, not my head, notmyhead_!" so he slices cleanly across it's neck, shuddering at the horrid, wet gurgling that sounds as the creature tries to scream for real while its head thuds to the ground.

He swings the axe backhand and sends another head rolling. He kicks out at yet another alien vampire coming at him, and sends him crashing into the back wall, where it bounces off and falls to the ground. He wants to scoop up his missing arm up from the ground, but that would require setting down the axe, and that's not a good idea right now, because he's got four more guys on him. He starts spinning and whipping the axe around like a quarterstaff at his enemies, but the weapon is getting batted around by the force of the never ending blast of bullets.

Edward is tapping into their thoughts, but "Kill" is pretty much all he's getting, and that hardly requires mind-reading ability. His impatient dismembered arm, meanwhile, is taking matters into its own hand. It has inched itself back to him and has grasped his ankle. It's tugging up and down, trying to get his attention. "Not now," he says through gritted teeth, flicking his foot to shake it off while his attached arm spins and swings like mad. His arm does not enjoy being ignored and tugs with extra force on his ankle, causing Edward to lose his balance, and he falls to the cave floor. On his way down, he sees that there's a soldier at the entrance to the tunnel, firing away at Seras.

He senses the thoughts of something ferocious in the tunnel; Seras is there, too, but she doesn't seem frightened. Still, he worries for Seras as he looks up at the four Nazi vampire soldiers that stand above him. They have lowered their weapons and now lick their chops, ready to start ripping him apart with their teeth.

The vampire at the tunnel entrance is suddenly blasted back as a U-shaped hook slams into his chest. It hurtles him across the cave, and he knocks over the four hovering over Edward like they are bowling pins. The gunman smashes against the back of the cave and the hook slams all the way through him, driving straight through his heart.

Seras steps out of the tunnel with that double-pronged harpoon shooter that Leon had used to strap Rosalie to the tree about four chapters ago. It's Seras, but it's not Seras. Her irises cover almost all the white in her eyes and they are a glowing, electric red. Her lips are pulled back over her gums, revealing her full set of long, pointed teeth and fangs. But she's not snarling – she's smiling, and it's the most chilling smile Edward has ever seen. She is the beast Edward heard in the hallway.

* * *

Alucard could have slaughtered them all in a heartbeat; broken them in half one by one before any of them even realized what was happening. He could have gone and killed them without as much as a whisper. He could have given them a quick death.

Not likely.

He wants a show. He wants a big show. He wants to make these German scum know how big a mistake they've made. He wants to see them scream and cry. They won't die with a bang and a blaze of glory, they'll all die bleeding on the ground, lying in pools of their own filth while they cry and beg for the painless death that they ain't gonna get.

Alucard appears on top of the boulder that crushed the flamethrower operator. He stands at exactly seven feet tall and looks like the kind of vampire you'd see in your nightmares. Gone are his red duster and charcoal riding suit; instead he's wearing a black leather straight jacket and his stark white gloves.

Upon seeing Alucard, Rip becomes undone with a crippling fear and it doesn't have anything to do with Jasper. "Samiel!" she half gasps half shrieks. It's the lord of hell from her favorite opera.

The Major had warned her, he'd warned Rip that one day Samiel would come for her and he would take her to hell and throw her body to the wolves just as he'd done to the opera's main character, Casper.

Alucard can't feel Rip's fear like Jasper does, but he can smell it, and the smell of fear has never been so sweet. Jasper can feel her fear, and fear has never been so paralyzing. It's as if Rip's terror is so great that he's become as frozen as the statue he resembles.

Even as the FREAK soldiers fire upon him, Alucard does not stop grinning. The teeth flash white before they're blown out the back of his skull by incendiary bullets. The red eyes can see into your soul before they explode into jelly and gore. Alucard shakes and jerks like a scarecrow in the wind. In a bizarre way it looks like he's dancing.

Finally, the guns stop blazing and Alucard falls to the ground, unmoving. Jasper watches from behind a fallen piece of rock. He feels not only Rip's terror and the terror of the FREAKs, but he can feel Alucard's emotion. The sick bastard is enjoying this. It's not about following orders or defending himself; he's doing this for the sheer pleasure of it. He's known people that killed for nothing but pleasure, but none of them lusted for the kill like Alucard does now.

Jasper feels the lust for carnage that Alucard feels. He can feel these emotions that have no names, because Jasper has never experienced anything like them before. He'd thought Alucard was scary, now he's about to see what Alucard can do.

Alucard's mangled, smoking corpse lands in a heap before the feet of the Nazis. For a second the Nazis dare to believe that he's dead, but Jasper knows better. He feels amusement, for Alucard this is just the warm up sequence.

Rip doesn't believe that Samiel is dead. The daemon lord of the hunt won't be brought down so easily. It is then that the glamour wears of off the body, revealing the mangled, dead corpse of the flamethrower operator who will no more operate a flamethrower.

Jasper watches this spectacle; it's rather like a movie. He's removed from the action. It's all about Alucard and the freaks now. But unlike a movie, this isn't make believe. It's happening right before his eyes. At any moment the brutality might spill over into his personal space.

Rip breathes heavily, the men have a confidence that she doesn't share. Where is Samiel?

"Hello." The voice of the lord of the hunt is in her ear. Alucard stands right behind Rip. She turns around and screams like she's never screamed before.

The Millennium huntress's scream is cut off by a spray of blood. Alucard stands in fighting stance. In his hand is a bayonet that he'd liberated from Paladin Anderson. Jasper can only look on in horror as Rip Van Winkle falls into two pieces, sliced in half at the waist.

With a bayonet in one hand and a giant meat cleaver in the other, Alucard does what the Hellsing family hires him to do. Alucard is the star of the show, the Nazis are the extras and Jasper is the audience.

Jasper's power is a double edged sword. He can manipulate the emotions of others, but it also means that he'll feel what they feel. So right now, he is divided on the inside. Half of him feels the call of Alucard's madness while the other half feels the anguish and horror of the unfortunate Nazis. It's almost as if his heart is straddling a giant chasm that's growing wider with each passing second.

Inside and out, Alucard is grinning from ear to ear. This is his element; this is what he was born to do. The only thing that matters is destruction, not the abhorrence of heaven, not the orders of his master, or even survival. Survial is secondary. Some were born to die, he was born to kill. His only regret is that he's not fighting against a thousand of these so called vampires. Even thought they don't sparkle, these pricks are worth less than the least of the Cullens. These fools are nothing, they're merely butchers and bakers turned and given weapons. In his heart he hopes for better adversaries very soon, but for now he makes due with what he has.

His technique is flawless, Alucard moves like one of the shadows. Now you see him and now you don't. He glides with the grace of a ballerina and slashes with the geometric perfection of a master swordsman. His meat cleaver becomes a metallic flash in the air; one of the Nazis is sliced from head to crotch and the pieces fall on opposite sides to each other. It's a brutal and elegant kill.

Another flash of light in the air; the stolen bayonet slashes one vampire from shoulder to hip. The screams are lovely. Alucard doesn't want too many of them dead yet. This is merely an exposition of his power and ability. He laughs, because laughing after ferociously dismembering somebody is always scary. It's a way of saying, "Your death is funny."

Rip Van Winkle is in a bad place. She drags herself across the bloody stone of the cave with her mutilated hands, trying to get to her musket. At this point, she's sort of starting to regret joining the Nazi party. The further screams of the troops under her command spurn her to get her ass moving, even though her ass is about ten feet behind her and severed from her body.

Alucard now stands still, bayonet and butcher knife bloody with the vital fluids of his enemies. It's time to get ready for the finale. The surviving Nazis are horribly mutilated; one of them has literally had his face sliced off, another has had the pleasure of being castrated with a blessed blade. All but two of them are dead and at a cry from their second in command they start to unload their grenades at Alucard's feet sans the pins and fire their rocket launchers.

These poor bastards have no idea just how futile their actions are, but Alucard decides to let them cling to their illusions for a few seconds longer. The incendiary and fragmentation grenades blow him apart and burn him to a crisp in the same stroke. The rockets double the power of the explosions. His smoldering ruins produce a thick black smoke.

Rip turns around, one incomplete hand wrapped around the handle of her musket. She screams, "Nein! _Er ist nacht toten_!" He is not dead.

Right on schedule, the Death-by-Alucard express pulls into the station. The black smoke chokes the cave while the napalm fires burn low; their fuel nearly spent. Hundreds of red eyes open in the smoke while a form solidifies from the choking fumes. Alucard appears once more, whole and still in charge despite everything that his foes have tried to do.

Like a hell-born maestro, Alucard raises his hands to conduct the grim reaper's orchestra. His eyes gleam and his smile is wide. Oh, if the Grim Reaper would smile and if he had a gleam in his eye, he would look just like Alucard.

To the horror and shock of all the participants of his fight, hundreds of arms start to grow out of Alucard's back, like a horde of multi jointed tentacles ending in white gloved hands.

The second in command can only gaze in horror at this impossible sight before him. His lower jaw is torn off, but he tries to say, "What the fuck are you?" And like the wrath of God, hundreds of grasping and clawing arms lunge at the Nazis. They stand no chance, they shoot but it doesn't even delay the inevitable. They're all shredded like meat in a grinder. The once proud soldiers of the Waffen SS are completely, totally and utterly fucked up. All except for one.

Rip Van Winkle cries. She sobs like a baby. Her time is up, there's no escape and no way to fight back. Death is coming and it will provide no relief or salvation. Her tears break Jasper's already divided heart. God, how did she get involved in this mess? What had she done in life that took her to this place? Jasper is no stranger to the killing of the innocent. Three quarters of all the vampires he's killed were poor victims that were forcibly recruited into bloody, pointless wars and forced to abandon everything they held dear. But this girl, it's like she's the poster child for all the people that got screwed over by the bosses in power. Rip is only a foot soldier, one of the pawns.

And Alucard is the physical personification of karma. It doesn't matter what your intentions were or what you thought you were going to do, you're going to pay for your crimes.

Rip catches Alucard's eye. She cringes and starts to weep again. Jasper weeps in time with her, even though he's incapable of shedding tears.

Alucard's voice is rich with sneering, biting sarcasm. "What's the matter? Are you out of those magic bullets?"

Seconds pass. Rip chokes out one last sob and then pulls off her glasses. She wipes her eyes, the terror and despair is gone. There is only a fiery determination left.

Alucard sneers once more, "Go ahead, shoot at me, bitch."

Rip then takes hold of her gun and pulls the firing mechanism close to her mouth. She yells one last time in German, "_My warhead will punish all without distinction!_" Then with her tongue, she pulls the trigger.

BLAM!

The magic bullet zips at immeasurable speed out of the barrel and makes a bee line for Alucard without any deviation of its path. Alucard patronizingly smiles as the bullet blasts through his chest.

In his crevasse, Jasper involuntarily mimics Alucard's smile almost perfectly.

The magic bullet ricochets off the wall and ceiling before ripping through Alucard's heart. The Hellsing trump card grunts, but shows no concern for the pain he feels. Alucard is a masochist as well as a sadist. He _loves_ pain.

The bullet desperately zigzags through the air and starts to tear in and out of Alucard's body like a needle through fabric. Through desperate fury, Rip tries to formulate a plan. In the original entrance of the volcanic cavern there is a bridge which goes over a fast flowing river. If she could just push him twenty feet more then he'd fall into the river past the cave entrance. She screams, "FALL! DIE!"

Jasper imitates her cries, but very softly, "fall, die." He's totally a slave to the emotions of Rip and Alucard. They're the performers and he's the voyeur.

The magic bullet shreds Alucard the same way that he shredded the troops. But the troops didn't smile as they got pulverized.

In Jasper's heart, Rip's dominating emotions are briefly overtaken by those of Alucard. He can taste Alucard's satisfaction. It makes him wish that he could get another crack at Rip, but something keeps him anchored to the spot.

Yes, that's it! Alucard is almost over the edge! Just a little further, just a little more and then . . .

Alucard decides that it's time to stop fucking around; this is starting to get stale.

There is a deafening _chomp_ing noise, which stuns both Rip and Jasper. Before them, Alucard stands with half his face ripped off. The magic bullet is clenched between his jaws. "Gotcha" he rasps. And with no further ado, he chews up the magic bullet like candy.

This is it; there is no more hope for Rip. Her sheer hopelessness crushes Jasper like a massive weight while Alucard's pitiless thirst for carnage threatens to puff him up like a toad. Between the two of them he feels like he's going to blow up like an over-inflated balloon.

Rip tries to reload the gun. She panics and spills the musket balls all over the floor. Frenzied with fear, she tries to grab a stray musket ball but it slips from her pinkie and thumb. Squealing with horror, she tries to grab another when Alucard's booted foot slams down on her hand. As she cries out, so does Jasper.

Alucard is content; he's like the junkie that found the perfect high. Now all that's left to do is to shoot up another hit. He grabs the bisected FREAK by her shirt collar and lifts up her to his eye level. Pathetic. Is this all that Millennium sees fit to send against him? He's insulted.

Rip thrashes her mutilated arms, trying to break free. She doesn't want to look at Alucard's face, because if she does she'll break down completely to the level of a baby.

Alucard merely clucks his tongue. "You're so clumsy. Look, Jasper, she's all thumbs today." If the situation wasn't so dire, it would have sounded corny. A moment later, Alucard lunges with his shark-like teeth and bites off Rip's thumbs.

Her scream makes Jasper cover his ears, but with his acute Unstet hearing he can hear every whimper, every desperate murmur and each dying plea.

Laughter rings throughout the damaged cavern. The laughter is just as fractured as the various shattered stones along the cave floor. "And now, _she has no thumbs_! AH-HAHAHAHAHA!" He laughs as if he truly finds humor in this.

By now, Jasper's heart is split nearly in half by the contrasting emotions in the cave. He just wants to get out of here. He wants to go home and go shopping with Alice, listen to Edward's music and put up with Rose's vanity.

Once more, he hears that mad, lilting voice reach for his attention, "Come here Jasper, I know you're there! I can read your thoughts, I can smell you."

Alucard sniffs and then runs his long tongue around his lips; they got stained with blood when he chewed up his prey's thumbs and spat them out. The blood is stale, but nutritious, as all vampire blood usually is. "Get down here, boy. Have some fun with your good buddy, Alucard! Put that limp prick of your to good use and abuse!" This final line elicits more chuckles from Alucard's gut.

.

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**Footnotes:**

(1) Lyrics to the Anthem of Nazi Germany

(2) Ibid

(3) Lyrics to Mr. Killjoy; written and performed by Lordi

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**Author's note:**

Voting next chapter, promise!

Thank you to Master of the Boot for his tremendous patience and expert guidance throughout the production of this chapter, and most of all for the dark brilliance he lends to this story.


	15. The chapter which shall be known as 15

**Author's Note:** How very sweet of you to come back! I hope you'll be able to forgive me for my lengthy absence when you find out the exciting reason behind it (in the ending author notes). I have missed you terribly and am so happy to see you again. :)

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_This chapter was co-written with Master of the Boot and Jack the Reaper. _

_Thank you to both gentlemen for coming to my rescue and putting up with my general girlishness.  
_

_.  
_

Chapter 15

Jasper is tucked away in a recess of the cave, cradling himself in fetal position. He's just witnessed Alucard decimate a horde of Nazi FREAK Vampires. Only one remains, Obersturmfuhrer Rip Van Winkle, and she is quite literally torn in two, and everything on her body that can be mutilated has been . . . or is about to be. Alucard is waiting for a response to his invitation for Jasper to join him and put his limp prick to good use and abuse.

Jasper can't move; he won't. He feels that if he were to go down there and join Alucard in the "festivities," then he would unleash a monster that would never be caged again. He would drink from the cup of blood that this ancient monster offers, and he doesn't think that he would ever be able to pull away from that bittersweet taste. So no, he doesn't join Alucard, and perhaps he saves his soul in the process.

The smile slips from Alucard's face. He drops Rip Van Winkle; she weakly tries to escape only to receive a heavy boot to the back of her neck.

That harsh, accusatory voice flies out like daggers. "So, that's it. I see what you are now. I thought you were only a dog, but I was wrong. You're a coward. That's what you are, Jasper Whitlock. You're nothing but a great, yellow coward!"

Deep down, Jasper knows that Alucard is right, but he cannot succumb to these foreign emotions that he feels. To do so would betray everything that he and his family stand for. The Cullens stand for temperance, and Alucard stands for intemperance; where they practice self-denial, he luxuriates in excess. Jasper is also guilty of the sin of gluttony, but he wants to move on and be more than what he is.

More of Alucard's accusations come his way. "You're weak and you've always been weak! Half a century with that accursed pixy flopping around has made you even weaker! But I am strong and my unlife of eternal war has only made me stronger. Every minute, every second that I spend in chaos and carnage will make me even stronger!"

Alucard grunts and spits. He has no further patience to waste on this stupid little boy. He's no warrior, just a grunt that happened to be a little tougher than the rest of his fellow grubs. Instead, Alucard turns his lantern-like eyes on his prize. The napalm fires are nearly extinguished, but the light is enough for him to appreciate destruction when he sees it.

In one of his hands, a bayonet seems to appear. It shows in the dim light like an extra large fang. Doubling over, Alucard grabs Rip Van Winkle's long, beautiful hair none too gently. He almost ends up ripping it out of her head. Ignorant of her squeals, he starts to use the holy blade to cut her hair down to large, uneven patches.

Alucard grabs a hunk of Rip's hair and holds it to his face. He breathes deeply. She smells of gunpowder and blood, which happen to be among his favourite scents.

Discarding the free hair, he flips over his victim and gazes upon her face. She's so young. He loves killing the young ones; they're always the stupidest. And Alucard can never forgive stupidity. In fact, he's utterly incapable of forgiveness.

With a callousness only a psychopath is capable of, Alucard smiles as he punches Rip in the face. The force of the blow caves in one half of her skull into a bloody pulp; one blue eye pops out of its socket and rolls away. That's okay though, she still has one left to look her tormentor in the eye with.

Rip tries to shut her remaining eye, but she will be afforded no such luxury. Alucard rips off her eyelid, forcing another scream out of her still intact vocal cords. The opera is already over; Samiel has tossed her body to the wolves and this is hell.

That pale, fanged face speaks to her. "This is not over yet, so just sit back and try to enjoy it." As he begins to unfasten the various clasps and buckles of his straight jacket, she screams and thrashes with all her might. She fully realizes what he plans to do.

Jasper hides, desperately wishing for this madness to be over. He hears screaming from Rip. She begs, screeches, threatens and breaks down crying, but Alucard makes no reply. Suddenly he hears Alucard make a deep, bestial grunt and then he can hear Rip gasp in pain before her screams reach a new high.

Alucard's grunting and growling become rhythmatic, synchronized with Rip's pitiful, desperate screams. In the dim shadows of the cave, Alucard smiles at his humiliated prey. More screams accompany the sound of an eye being ripped out. How much more pain and misery can he continue to heap on one person? Does his lust have no boundaries?

Alucard's grunting and groaning continues, this time in greater volume and intensity. Between his bestial noises, his speaks with brutal sarcasm and cruelty, "Oh Rip, don't you just _**love**_ what I'm doing to you? Don't you _**love**_ me?"

And then he begins to sing once more; it's a noise from Hell's number one radio hits.

_**I'm here to fix your troubles  
Brute force applied with some finesse  
When people are the problem  
My hatchet always works the best (Oh, yes it will)**_

_**Nananananah - Calling Mr. Killjoy  
I'm the death of every party  
Nananananah - Calling Mr. Killjoy  
And I don't care if you don't like me **_(1)_  
_

How long has it been; how long has he tortured that woman? Who can say? Jasper certainly can't. He's been like a child trying to convince himself that the monsters under the bed aren't real. But this monster is all too real, and he's having a jolly good time.

Very quickly, Alucard's utter of satisfaction turns into a fractured, schizoid laugh that climbs higher and higher. He doesn't just want Rip to know that he's defeated her utterly; he wants the entire world to know of his victory and to celebrate his genius and his ability.

The laughter only stops when Alucard stoops down and chomps down on Rip's throat. No longer can she scream. Alucard's shark-like teeth have severed her windpipe and slashed her vocal cords to ribbons.

In every way, Rip has become a macabre work of a sociopath's masterpiece. Her bloody and plundered eye sockets seem to stare out with ultimate misery; her mouth silently utters a final farewell to whatever person or deity she loves the most. The lower half of her body lies still; the napalm fires have burned down, and now the cave is pitch black except for a tiny smidge of luminescence provided by glowing organisms in the fast flowing river. Shadows claim all; they begin to devour the body of Rip Van Winkle even as their master drains the last of the blood from her system. She struggles no more from his iron grasp.

And then it's over. There's nothing left of the battle, only whatever scraps the scavengers can get at when Alucard has had his fill. Rip Van Winkle is gone. There's nothing left of her but a pair of broken glasses and a musket.

A booted foot stomps on the glasses, and strong hands clad in white gloves break the rifle in two. Alucard doesn't care for trophies nor does he believe in respecting a fallen foe. He speaks in a normal and nondescript tone of voice. "Bubba, get up. We've much to do."

As if waking up from a horrid nightmare, Jasper uncovers his eyes and looks up to see the ugly mug of Alucard. Those putrid emotions are still there, but they've now shrunken back to manageable levels. The dangerous side of Alucard's insanity has gone away, and now his perverted side is present.

Once more, Alucard commands, "Have you enjoyed your nap? We are still in a contest in case you didn't notice."

Jasper smoothly climbs to his feet as if he's just fine and dandy. Compared to Nosferatu, Unstet are a very guarded lot. In general they keep to themselves and tend to be very aloof and difficult to read. Hence, when they experience something unpleasant, most of the will act as if they have no problems at all.

The Nosferatu are a much more wild and overt lot, and Alucard exemplifies many of the best and worst traits of this species. He impatiently taps his foot on the ground and grumbles, "Come on, I don't have all day for you to comb your ridiculous hair."

Jasper surveys the carnage with a detached eye. "We'll have to take these body parts with us to the garbage cans."

This earns him a scoff from the superior vampire. "Ah, you've figured it out. You're not as stupid as Rosalie thinks you are."

Jasper responds in a neutral tone of voice, "Thank you." With no further invitation, Jasper gets down and grabs as many chunks of dismembered Nazi as he can reasonably be expected to carry. Turning around, he sees that Alucard has lost focus and is now playing and prodding with the Nazi corpses. He uses the full might of his Texas accent to no avail. "Hey, we're in a competition, remember? We have to move."

Alucard grabs the most complete corpse he can find and starts to carry it like a puppet. "No, _you _have to move. It's your wife in danger; my work here is fulfilled. Run as fast as you care to and put the pieces in my garbage can." Apparently Rip Van Winkle's magic bullet didn't make a dent on that huge ego.

"You're demented, did you know that?"

Alucard dismisses Jasper's claim. "Bah! Am I any crazier than Emmett, who frequently gets wood not from Rosalie but from Esme?"

What did he just say?

Alucard picks up on Jasper's shock, confusion and outright disbelief. "More information from my contacts on the outside. They found out that sometimes, when Rose isn't pleasuring him like she should, Emmett will pretend to be hurt emotionally in order to receive a hug from his mamma. He'll get his hug, and then he'll get an erection. He's utterly ashamed of his body's reaction to his adopted mother, but he just can't stop."

Jasper is at a loss for words, almost. "Jesus."

Alucard begins to shake the corpse in his hands. "That's nothing; you should see the dirt that my homies have dug up on Bella and Edward." His smile is so epic that it deserves its own emoticon.

Oh God, as if Jasper wants to know what his repressed brother has been up to. "No, I'd really rather not know more." He starts to edge away from Alucard.

Alucard gestures to the mutilated Nazi in his hands and grabs the exposed spine. "Squeamish, are you? Well, maybe he can explain the most tolerable parts to you."

Alucard squeezes on the spine of the FREAK, making his mouth move up and down. In a grotesque display of ventriloquism, Alucard makes the dead FREAK appear to talk in a high-pitched Mickey Mouse voice. "_Edward and Bella like to put on period dress from when Edward was human_."

Jasper begins to walk away from Alucard and his freaky puppet before the No-Life King puts his free hand on his shoulder and stops him. "Now hold on, I haven't even gotten to the good parts yet."

Jasper pries Alucard's hand off of his shoulder. "I'm getting out of here. You're disturbed."

But Alucard protests. "I'm not crazy. Am I crazy, dead guy?"

The dead Nazi puppet responds, "_Nah, you're not crazy. You're just misunderstood._" If Jasper looks at just the right angle, he can see the loose screws sticking out of Alucard's head. Without a word, he zips off into the jungle like a bullet, gone in an instant.

Alucard is now alone. It's necrophilia time. Smiling, Alucard looks at all the sexy body parts still lying around with nobody to claim them. He says to his puppet, "This will be fun."

To which his puppet replies in that high-pitched voice, "_You betcha!_"

* * *

"Bloody hell," Integra spits. In her nearly malnourished condition after so many days on the island, the last bout with the FREAK vampires has drained her more than it would normally, and she doesn't relish the thought of having to fight off the three that have just reanimated from under the fallen tree. But there's nothing to be done for it, so she lunges toward the vampire that has stepped closest, the one with the long dreadlocks, and thrusts her rapier at its chest. Meanwhile, Walter flings his wires and expertly decapitates both of the others.

Integra is stunned when her weapon not only fails to stab through the manufactured vampire's heart, but doesn't pierce one cell of flesh. Instead it bends and snaps, as if she's just jabbed it straight into a granite mountain. Walter flings a wire at the vampire's throat, but the creature throws a fist into the air to block it. Rather than slicing through the limb, the wire is stopped short, and the loose end continues its momentum in flying circles that wrap tightly around the monster's wrist.

The vampire's wide, jagged mouth opens in a gruesome smile as it jerks its wrist. Walter, stunned by the impotence of his weapon, is pulled forward and onto the ground. With this turn of events, Integra takes an instinctive step back to assess the unexpected abilities of her foe.

The vampire's grin impossibly widens as he turns to Integra and glances down at her blunted sword. "You'll not be hurtin' me with yer lilly toys, mon."

Walter starts to raise himself, but he's pressed back to the ground by the Rasta-vamp's boot on his head.

"And you'll be going nowhere, Johnny. I can see why ye'd be fooled ta tinkin' dat I be an easy mark, but I'm not like de others. I got de Unstet chromosomes. Hard as de rock and impervious to de attack."

Walter makes a feeble attempt to get up, but the incredibly strong booted foot holds him fast. Integra holds her ground, although she does notice that this vampire appears to be better constructed than the others. He's less like a meat puppet and more like a sturdy block of sculpted marble. He's got the same bulging eyes and the same grotesquely large mouth as the others, but the flesh that connects these features is smooth and alabaster, and there is something more controlled in his eyes. Something calculating and cold.

She can't let her enemy sense the intimidation she feels at these observations, so she retorts, "You weren't impervious to the falling tree that brought you to your knees."

"Ah-rite, de tree. A convenient distraction. Allowed me to stay out of de fight while you make me bredren dead."

This answer was not expected. "Y-you want them dead?" Integra stammers. She strengthens her grip the broken weapon and keeps it pointed squarely at the vampire, although it's going to do her no good.

"Dey be only a distraction to me. Only flies to swat before I get what it is I come here for."

Integra wants to keep him talking. Walter looks increasingly uncomfortable under the pressure on his temple, and Integra needs to figure out how to get rid of this marble-skinned half-Unstet before he crushes her butler's skull. "What did you come here for?" she demands.

"De Hellsing heir." The vampire's lips curl into a sneer, and he adds, "Alive."

Integra barely manages to repress the shudder inspired by these ominous words. "I-I'm not sure the Major would approve of that last part of your plan." She is struggling to keep the conversation going—Walter's eyes are starting to bulge, and she's got to figure out something quick.

"De Major means no ting to me. What he and his scientist did not tink about was de independent spirit of de Unstet. We be happy to serve no master but ourselves."

"I've got news for you," Integra counters. "You're doing his bidding right now."

"De bidding I do be not de Major's. I take de Hellsing heir, and she do my bidding, and den, de servants of de Hellsing heir be my servants."

"You'll never get off the island! He's watching us right now." Integra is still on the defensive, but she's now genuinely curious about his plan.

"Dey know cameras and electronics and man-made weaponry, but me, I know de _island_. Once I have what I came for, dey not find me until I want dem to."

By this time Integra has figured out how to get the Rasta's foot off of Walter, but she pauses. If this vermin can get her out of the Major's grasp, perhaps she'll have a better chance of getting free. And perhaps she can convince him that Walter would also be a servant worth keeping around.

"Now, I'll take out de Johnny-trash under my foot and we get going."

Perhaps not.

Before Walter's skull is crushed, Integra drops her wrist and lunges forward again, this time thrusting upwards, ramming the jagged edge of her broken rapier into the vampire's groin. This flesh is a bit more resistant than she'd surmised, but after cracking through the solid, exoskeleton, the blunted sword sinks into the softest area of the half-Unstet's body.

"Aaauuugghhh!"

Integra continues to twist her weapon and shoves the vampire off of her butler. Walter rolls away and holds the side of his throbbing head while his boss gnashes her teeth together and grunts with another sadistic jab. "This is what you get for thinking that I would ever serve anybody but her Majesty the Queen."

"Auyi-yi-yiiiii!"

Before Walter fully recovers, he sees movement from behind his boss.

"Bugger," he murmurs. It's the FREAK vampire he'd sliced in half at the beginning of the fight. He hadn't gotten around to stabbing its heart before being assailed by the booted Rastafarian. Now, the halved creature has set its torso onto its legs and is ambling toward Integra.

Walter notes a grenade attached to the side of the mangled soldier's Nazi uniform, and without a quarter of a second's forethought he jumps to his feet and rushes past Integra and the loudly-weeping Rasta. He flies past the shakily assembled vampire, knowing its reflexes will be slowed enough so that it won't be able to readily adjust its direction. As Walter passes, he deftly grabs the pin and pulls it from the grenade, leaving the explosive attached to the vampire's pants. With his last surge of energy, the Hellsing servant doubles back and tears Ingra from her death grip on the rapier's handle.

"Run!" he shouts and Integra listens. They run together and dive behind a large rock while the Major's drone continues moving closer toward his whimpering comrade.

The two Nazi vamps are now very close to each other, and the grenade explodes, blowing manufactured-vampire bits around the forest. Small particles rain down on Integra and Walter's heads behind their shelter.

The two members of Team Hellsing push themselves to standing and survey the mess around them. There's a smattering of heads and bodies scattered around the forest floor, as well as fresh hunks of oozing flesh splattered onto the surrounding trees. There are a few moments of breathless silence before Walter speaks.

"Sir, we've never before dealt with the Unstet species or its derivatives. How did you determine its Achilles heel so quickly?"

"We've been living with the Cullens for some time now, Walter. Simple observation."

"You've been observing the Cullen's nether regions?" Walter asks. His tone is innocent enough, but one corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly.

Integra levels a glare at him that tells him question-and-answer time is over. "I suggest we focus on gathering up this disaster and getting it all back to the beach."

"Oh dear."

* * *

Surrounded by four Nazi FREAK's, Edward lies on the cavern floor, minus one arm. The Nazis desperately try to get themselves loose from the double-pronged hooks that pin them to the floor, but the hooks are lodged too deeply into the stone. Edward turns his head to the side only to have his dismembered arm poke him in the cheek, wanting to be picked up. Edward jumps to his feet, scoops up his arm, then slaps it back on where it should be. Within moments, unliving sinew, flesh and bone reknit themselves, and Edward flexes his fingers to test it.

Finding the reattachment satisfactory, he turns his mind to the situation at hand, namely the savage slaughtering-machine-in-development that is Seras. If she goes into full bloodlust, he knows she will probably rip him to pieces along with the FREAKs. Even if he survived it, he wouldn't want to experience that particular kind of contact with Seras. He suddenly recognizes the similarity between the current Seras and the town drunks who hang out by the bar in Port Angeles, friendly and childlike one moment, dangerous and belligerent the next.

"You did great Seras," Edward soothes, trying to calm her enough to restore rational thought. Using his massive strength, the Unstet tries to yank up one of the Nazis, but the hooks stay lodged in the rock, so he breaks the FREAKs hips as he slides it out of the U-shaped hook.

"You see these guys?" Edward asks as he pins the Nazi's arms to its sides.

The Nazi doesn't like this one bit, and tries to spit at Edward. "Ich wird tuten du ficker!" the thing sputters before wincing in agony as Edward gives him a shake, jolting its broken hips.

"This is what I want you to do to them," the Unstet says and wraps his left arm around the FREAK, still pinning its arms. He brings up his freed right hand to the faker's face, closing his fingers tightly around it and rips off the flesh. The FREAK howls in agony as its bared skull is revealed to the world. In one swift motion, Edward releases him and clamps both his hands to either side of his victim's head. With a sickening crunch, Edward crushes the Nazi faker's skull between his hands, splattering gray matter, blood and bone shards over Edward's chest.

The beast that is Seras raises its head, intrigued. Smashing skulls did indeed look fun. Already she is thinking of better and more painful ways to do it. The corner of her mouth twitches up into a snarl before she stalks over to the remaining three fakers. The bloodshed is as intoxicating to Seras as a bottle of vodka to the local drunkards. As Seras moves toward them, the three Nazis on the ground panic. This last surge of fear is enough to help them pull out of the hooks and jump to their feet.

Edward picks up a stray thought from behind him. He doesn't quite understand it, but it contains a metal rod, Edward's head, and lots of gore, so he assumes it isn't good. He reacts as necessary and twists his body to the right. However, even his supernaturally fast dodge proved too slow. A metal rod punches itself through his throat, lodging into the stone flesh.

"Sorry Cullen. I know you'd rather have this pole stuck up your ass, but this thing is staying right where it is," a voice behind Edward growls into his ear. Its Newton.

Before Edward can do anything, his mind is filled with perverted thoughts of what Newton plans to do to Bella with Edward out of the picture. Enraged, Edward strikes out behind him with his elbow, nailing Newton in the chest and breaking at least three ribs. The jock-turned-FREAK loosens his grip in shock, clearly not used to this kind of punishment.

Using this opening, Edward jumps away from Newton before closing in again with fists flying. Three quick jabs to Newton's shoulders break them at the joints, and a punch to his chest smashes another two ribs. Edward finishes with a powerful blow to the jaw, utterly crushing it and sending Newton flying. He crashes into a wall, and a large chunk of rock falls down from the ceiling, jolted loose by the impact. A faint streak of light shines through, illuminating a few spots on the cave floor with what Edward assumes is sunlight.

To Edward's surprise, Newton rises from the heap on the floor, ready for more. His broken bones are already healing, and this time he knows what to expect. Edward scans his thoughts, looking for information that will help him. He catches an unexpected flash to Newton's days as a student at Stanford University. The stray thought is rife with Newton's past feelings of inadequacy—he'd been a Great White in the small pond of Forks High, but on the California campus, he was more like a tiny guppy in a vast ocean. No one laughed at his corny jokes, and he fell woefully behind in his studies, which was bound to happen since daddy was the only reason he'd ever even gotten through the front door.

Before Edward can gather anything more, Newton's thoughts return to violence. Without any thought or planning, the FREAK lets loose a feral snarl and leaps forward, latching its razor-sharp teeth onto the Unstet's arm. They don't sink into the marble-like surface, but his jaw clamps tightly and doesn't let go. Edward shakes his trapped arm and punches his attacker with his other one, but he can't dislodge the faker. Like a Nazi wardog, Newton holds on and finally manages to tear off the Unstet's lower arm. He flings his head sideways and spits it across the cave.

"You're such a loser, Cullen," Newton growls thickly through his blistering lips. When he tore off the appendage, a bit of Unstet venom leaked out on him, and although he's immune enough to it that it won't damage his general well-being, it's not going to make him any prettier.

Edward glances at Seras and detects suspicious thought patterns from her. She's totally butchered the three vampires—various pieces of them now hang from the wall or lay on the floor—and now she is playing with two others that managed to revive from the earlier explosion. She's giving them the illusion that they have the upper hand, while in reality she can rip them apart with barely a second thought at any moment.

A sharp sting of pain brings Cullen back to his own fight. A quick glance at Newton's face tells him that he's made a big mistake. He'd left the metal bar in his throat, thinking that the short rod couldn't do that much damage. Now, with Newton's hands on each end of the rod, he knows he understands differently. With a quick twist and a revolting crunch, Cullen's head is severed from his body and lands with a thud some three feet away.

The now headless body of Edward operates purely on reflexes, and so Newton is surprised when he's hit with a flurry of punches. All of them are poorly aimed and sloppy, but the monstrous undead strength makes up for that, and soon Newton is thrown yet again into the wall, this time falling unconscious for a short while. Even though FREAK Newton is out cold, his mind is active. Edward takes in those thought while he attempts to maneuver his head closer to his body. Newton is recalling a walk down a dark alley. Edward can tell this is a true memory and that his former classmate had still been human when it had occurred. He sees a rotund blond man speaking to Newton in a heavy German accent. It's unmistakably the Major.

"_Novone gives you the respect you deserve. In my army you vould be a Sturmhauptfuhrer, a leader. Und in addition you vould gain…eternal life." He draws out the last words, capturing Newton's full attention._

"_A vampire?" Newton murmurs. It's obvious that the idea intrigues rather than repulses him, and the Major's mouth curls up into a skeevy grin._

"_Not just any vampire. An enhanced vampire, vith stength beyond that uf any other vampire I've yet created." _

Edward's stumbling legs trip over Newton, and his body lands close to its head. At the same time, Newton's memory fades as he starts to regain consciousness. Cullen's got to hurry. His head lies sideways, and he lolls his unnaturally long tongue out of his mouth to lick the dusty cave floor and reposition his head. Once in position, he jabs his mouth muscle into the ground, sending his head rolling over to his torso. Now that his body parts are in close proximity, they move naturally together. Ligaments and fossilized flesh fuse together and begin the healing process.

But before the process is complete, Edward feels a swift kick to the back of his cranium, and his head goes flying off of his body once again to land by his arms. Edward smells a sickening sulfurous scent as Newton strikes a match. The only thing that can destroy the Unstet is the burning of his severed limbs, like the Hydra in ancient Greek mythology.

"Come on, Mike, you know you don't want to do this," Edward coaxes. Even with a severed throat, he still managed to talk, and with a rather smooth voice to boot, as he tries to get through to whatever is left of Newton's human side.

"Yes I do," Mike answers petulantly.

"You're no Nazi. You're one of the good guys, remember? A nice kid from Forks."

The neo-vampire's thoughts flash to a sterile, clinically-white room where a doctor of questionable sexuality stands over him, poking at him and watching his reactions through round spectacles.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Cullen!" Newton shouts, breaking out of the reverie. "I'm a vampire just like you now. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm kicking your ass... No, I'm kicking your HEAD!"

"Think of Bella, Mike." Newton stiffens at the mention of Bella. The match burns down close to his fingertips, but he doesn't seem to notice. "She thinks the world of you. Do you really want to be the guy that killed her husband? She'll never forgive you."

For a moment Edward thinks his plan is working, but then he feels Newton's thoughts turn to poison.

"New girls were my territory, Cullen. In high school society you were just supposed to be the weirdo who lurks in corners and creeps everyone out, but you forgot your place. Things were going great with me 'n her. Would've been down her pants in two weeks tops if it weren't for you and your vampire mojo."

"Well I've got the mojo now, Cullen! I'm super strong and awesome, and I don't even want Bella anymore. I can have any girl I like. Like the bimbo over there." He nods his head in Seras' direction to his right. She had finally gotten bored playing with her food and promptly ripped them to pieces. She's slowly returning to normal and is coherent enough to register Newton's latest derogatory remark.

"She sees how cool and strong I am. She wants me so bad, she's shaking. Do you see her?"

Seras is shaking alright, but it's not from wanting Mike Newton. She is livid. It's bad enough she has to put up with the continuous innuendo from her Master, but she certainly doesn't have to take it from this punk. The match snuffs out on Newton's fingertips, so he lights another one and winks over his shoulder at the quivering Nosferatu.

"Tell you what, honey, I'll get rid of this dufus, and then I'll let you suck me off before I have to kill you. Oh, but I promise you'll enjoy it. Ever have a grenade shoved up your—"

He's interrupted by Edward's head, thrown by the Unstet's own arm, slamming into his hand and knocking the match away. The decapitated head continues sailing beyond Newton, straight to Seras, who easily catches it.

She clicks her pointed teeth together in a demonic smile and clutches Edward's scalp. She practically flies to Newton and pounds the solid mass of Edward's skull into his snot-nosed face. Newton reels; he's no match for the combination of Nosferatu strength and Unstet durability. Seras continues pummeling the synthesized vampire with her new weapon, and the weapon helps by opening his mouth and chomping and pulling at whatever bits he can get. Seras's raw fury no longer has anything to do with bloodlust, but everything to do with female indignance.

Seras pounds Newton's increasingly limp body to a bloody pulp, and his shrieks eventually die away. Most of Edward's head is covered in blood and gore, in addition to bone splinters entangled in his hair. He spits out a tooth, wondering whether it was his own or Newton's. He decides that being used as a weapon by a furious female is a decidedly unpleasant experience, and he mentally resolved to never ever piss of Seras. Or Bella, he thinks as a side note. She's probably just as dangerous.

.

**Footnotes:**

(1) Lyrics to "Mr. Killjoy" performed by Lordi

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**Author's Notes:**

It's vote time!!! Please see the poll at my profile and vote for which of these three teams you think will be the _last _to gather their Nazi pieces and make it back to the beach. The last team to arrive will be voted off the island. Let's see . . . I will leave this poll open until March 31 . . . unless I change my mind. ;)

While you're at my profile, please follow the link to my published works . . . that's right, PUBLISHED works!!! I've been busy these last several months working with Omnific Publishing to polish up my original novel, "Three Daves," which is now available for on-line purchase in either paperback, e-book, or Kindle. It's nothing like this story at all (which may be a good thing O_o), but if you'd like to read more about it or even if you just want to listen to my awesome playlists and take some fun quizzes, visit www. nickielson .com. My penname is Nicki Elson. :)


	16. we discover unexpected personal heroes

_This chapter was co-written with Master of the Boot_

Chapter 16

The chapter in which we discover unexpected personal heroes

Walter and Integra huff and puff as they slam the lid down on their garbage can. It is filled with Nazi-vampire body parts. They weren't the first individuals to arrive at the beach—Jasper is here—but they are the first team to complete their mission. Jasper can't finish because he's still waiting for his partner.

Walter bends double and braces himself on the aluminum lid, sucking in a dry, ragged breath. Integra presses her back to the barrel and sinks to the ground. The clouds in the night sky have broken apart so that moonlight and a smattering of stars cast a silver light on the exhausted duo and their lone companion, who stands perfectly still and only stares at the tree line.

In half a moment Alucard bursts out of the underbrush, strutting his stuff like a drug dealer in the hood—a drug dealer carrying a bundle of violated corpses on his shoulder. Apparently necrophilia makes Alucard happy, because this is the most cheerful he's been since he arrived on this accursed island.

He pimp walks up to the trio and says, "Wa'sup, Niggaz?"

Nobody is quite sure how to respond to this rather random form of greeting. Walter acts like he doesn't hear anything while Integra glares at her servant. Alucard smiles and waves at Jasper as if he didn't hate him utterly. Jasper only stares blankly at him. He'd been harboring a fantastical hope that the cave of horrors would have somehow swallowed Alucard up so that he'd never be able to torment another soul again.

As he watches his disturbingly chipper teammate stroll towards him, Jasper isn't sure what's worse—Alucard on a sadistic rampage, or Alucard happy. Before he can make up his mind, Edward and Seras emerge from the between the trees, laden with stinking limbs. It had taken a while to reattach Edward's head and get it to sync properly with his gross motor skills, so they got a delayed start.

Alucard stops his progression toward the garbage cans and turns toward the new arrivals. He smiles and steps over to Seras. She has now fully returned to her normal state.

"Smack that, girlfriend," Alucard says, holding up his hand in a high five gesture. The police girl hits it, just like he asks. She often finds her master's behavior bizarre, but rarely wants to call him on it. It seems to work best to simply go with the program.

Edward keeps his eyes on Alucard, but it is Jasper's thoughts that permeate his mind. The events with Rip Van Winkle replay like a fragmented but perfectly clear home movie. Edward takes it in and wonders if Integra is aware of the degree to which darkness has taken root in Alucard's heart. Hellsing's prime weapon swaggers around the beach as if his recent atrocities were nothing more than smashing a troublesome insect.

The corpses slung over Edward's own shoulders bear a heavier weight than their physical mass alone. He had slain them in self defense, and he knows they were monsters, but they were men once, and he can't help but mourn that loss of humanity. Far be it from Edward to miss an opportunity to brood.

Alucard doesn't care what those monsters once were, doesn't care that the darkness made great strides tonight in taking him over completely, doesn't care that he's about a decade behind in pop culture with his gansta' antics. He doesn't care about anything. And he certainly doesn't seem to care about completing this challenge. He leans back on one leg with his arms crossed over his chest and his sharp lips puckered out and twisted into what he intends as a dope smirk.

Edward flicks his eyes to Seras, and she picks up his queue. They tear across the sand to their receptacle and shove their FREAKs into it. Edward clamps down the lid and gives Seras a playful wink. "Smack _that_, girlfriend."

Seras giggles, and even Edward allows himself a laugh. More than anything, he's happy to have formed this brother/sister bond with Seras. She is proof that a Nosferatu doesn't have to turn out to be what Alucard is.

"My, my, I've never seen two vampires so happy to have lost."

All merriment drains from Edward and Seras when they turn their gaze toward the deep, rumbling voice. Alucard leans against his trash barrel with his arms still crossed, but the idiotic smirk is gone. It's now more of an evil grin.

"B-but…?" Seras stammers.

Edward narrows his eyes at Alucard. The ancient vampire doesn't care about this game, but he does care about asserting his dominance over his protégé. Alucard leads a hierarchical existence; it's only right that Sir Integra should have finished the challenge ahead of him, but he will not be bested by his fledgling. It's strange to Edward that a creature with such wild and unrestrained lusts would adhere to such archaic order and tradition. It doesn't make sense.

The television crackles to life and reveals the Major. He is seated at a white-clothed table and lifts what looks to be the last hunk of a juicy piece of steak to his mouth. He grinds the meat between his molars and addresses them with his mouth full. "Congratulations, Survivors. You haff all made it back. Serh gut."

Integra pulls herself up to stand erect. There is unmistakable pride in the set of her jaw and lift of her chin. She doubts very much that the Major expected any of them to make it back alive, but he's just learned something about the strength of the Hellsing organization. She's not sure what he has planned for them next, but she can't imagine that after the humiliating defeat of his troops he's going to continue on with this ridiculous game.

The Major dabs delicately at the corners of his mouth before saying, "Vell, no reason for Tribal Council as Edvard and Seras haff sealed their fate, so I haff something else for our pre-departure entertainment."

He fades from view, and his image is replaced by a circular stage surrounded by vacant stadium seating. In the center of the stage are two occupied chairs and two computer monitors. Lights flash around the stage while a dramatic instrumental pounds out a familiar theme song.

"You've got to be kidding me," Integra grumbles.

"Regis Philbin?" Jasper asks when the camera zooms in on an elderly gentleman.

"Welcome to our very first edition of _Who Wants to Save His Brother?_" Yup, it's Reege.

As the camera continues to close in on Philbin, Jasper is relieved to see by his skin tone that he is still human and hasn't been turned into any kind of ghoul or FREAK. It's not as if Jasper personally knows the genial host, but the vibe he transmits over the airwaves is always such a good one. And after what Alucard has just put him through, Jasper needs to know that there is still good in this world.

The camera pans around to reveal the occupant of the other chair. He has very long, inky black hair and pale skin. His flesh looks very delicate and crinkly, translucent almost, and his crimson eyes are heavily clouded. He's obviously seen quite a few centuries come and go on this earth; he makes Regis look like a teenager.

"It's Aro Volturi," Edward says in a low voice.

"_That's_ Aro," Integra repeats with interest. She, of course, knows who Aro Volturi is—he and his two brothers, Cassius and Marcus, are leaders of the organization that regulates Unstet vampires. But the brothers are a reclusive lot, and so without having had any reason to negotiate with them, Integra's never met Aro. She hadn't expected him to be so frail-looking.

"So Aro is in on this with the Major," Jasper seethes with condemnation. "We should've known. What's he going to do to Regis?"

"We have Aro Volturi here with us today," Philbin announces with an easy smile. "I tell ya, this guy's got a lot of great stories." The host leans forward in his chair and shouts into the camera, "Unfortunately, I can't get him to _tell_ me any!" Cue the laugh track. Regis sits back casually and smiles at Aro. "I'm just joking with you. But I'll bet you do have a lot of great stories. Are you ready for this?"

Aro sits with his hands folded in his lap and gives Regis one formal nod.

"Okay then, let's not keep the man waiting. Since we have no audience tonight, you cannot 'ask the audience' and so you only have two lifelines—the 50/50 and phone a friend. And in this case, they are literally _life_lines."

The camera cuts away to reveal another ancient vampire with snow white hair and the same crinkly skin. He is suspended in the air by hefty metal manacles around his wrists and ankles. Nine-inch thick metal chains pull at the manacles to stretch his limbs out to his sides. For a human, the position would be extremely uncomfortable, but the vampire seems to be all right with it. It's the fiery pit directly beneath him that makes him uneasy.

The camera pans out and reveals that each of the chains extend to a pulley. Underneath the pulleys, holding onto the ends of the thick chains, are more Nazi FREAKs. There are five to six FREAKs per chain, enough to rip Caius's limbs from his body and send it into the flames.

"Yes, it's pretty tense in the studio as our friend Aro here is playing not for a million dollars, but the safety of his brother," Regis Philbin explains.

"_Reege_ is with the Major?" Jasper practically whimpers. He's having a very hard day.

"Let's get to that first question, shall we? Here we go: What is the name of the first fictional vampire to appear in print? Is it A) Carmilla, B) Ruthven, C) Thalaba, or D) Geraldine?"

Usually the early questions are much easier, but the Major & Co. are clearly not messing around. Even though Aro is, in fact, a vampire, he's been more concerned with the activities of real vampires than fictional ones. Nevertheless, it has been important to keep tabs on exactly what kind of information about vampires is being fed to the public. The more inaccurate, the better. He feels pretty safe that no one would be so foolish as to expose his breed by publishing a novel about vampires that sparkle—they'd be laughed out of society.

Aro decides to show off a bit. "Carmilla and Ruthven are among the first vampires to appear in novels, but vampires appeared in print much earlier in poetry. _Thalaba the Destroyer_ is the first printed work to portray a vampire, but Thalaba was not the vampire, rather his deceased love, Oneiza. Therefore, the answer is Geraldine, who appeared in _Cristabel, _published in 1816."

"Is that your final answer?" Regis asks needlessly.

"Final answer."

"Well, you certainly got that one right. Moving on to the next question: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? Is it A) 90 kilograms per day, B) 90 kilograms per week, C) 90 kilograms per month, or D) 90 kilograms per year."

Aro's already smug countenance gets smugger. They think they've got him on this one. If a woodchuck can't chuck wood, then how could anyone know how much wood a woodchuck could chuck? But they don't know what goes on in the sub-subbasement at the Volturi headquarters. Aro has a researcher down there conducting all kinds of experiments, including biogenetic ones. The man is very talented, and sometimes Aro likes to stare at him for hours on end. It's a good thing too, because the researcher just so happened to do an experiment a few months ago to answer the very question Philbin now poses.

"B," Aro states. "That's my final answer,"

"You sound pretty confident there. Well, okay, let's see if you're right. And the answer is…B. You got it!" Philbin sounds genuinely pleased, and Jasper feels all fuzzy inside. He knew Regis wouldn't be on the Major's side. Not completely. He must be being coerced in some way.

"All right, we've got one more question left to determine the fate of Caius. How are you doing, sir?" Regis asks, and the camera again shows Caius suspended over the heat that wants to consume him.

Caius is cool as a cucumber. "I'm doing just fine; thanks for asking. And how are you?"

Regis gives a congenial chuckle, and the camera returns to the set. "Final question: Who played Bruce Wayne in the Batman movie released in 1989? Was it: A) Val Kilmer, B) George Clooney, C) Michael Keaton, or D) Adam West"

Alucard shakes his head. "Pscht. That's a gimme."

But Aro doesn't seem to think so. His forehead crinkles more than usual as he studies the choices on his screen. He'd never had much use for superhero movies. "Was George Clooney ever Batman?" he mumbles, thinking out loud. "Hmm…"

Alucard's red eyes blaze on the screen. For the first time since setting foot on the beach the smile is completely wiped from his face. "Michael Keaton," he emphasizes to the inanimate object in the trees.

"I remember Val Kilmer. Yes, he was very good," Aro continues to deliberate.

"Michael Keaton," Alucard utters again through clenched teeth.

"But I don't believe Kilmer was the first."

Alucard raises an approving eyebrow.

"But even still…eh, I'd like to use the 50/50."

"You're the boss," Regis tells him. "Okay, take away two options, please."

A and B are removed from the list, and Aro is left with Michael Keaton and Adam West.

Aro studies the two remaining options. "Nineteen-eighty-nine…" Aro has existed for over three thousand years. He might as well be thinking back to two hundred years ago as twenty.

Alucard's eye twitches. It is beyond him how anyone could forget Keaton's brilliant performance of the Caped Crusader on the silver screen. Adam West was fine for TV, but he's not fit to lick Keaton's slingshot ankle reinforcements!

"I'd like to phone a friend," Aro tells Regis.

"Okay, fine. Let's get Marcus on the phone." The ringing of a phone can be heard.

"Hello," a tired sounding voice says over the speakers.

"Hi, Marcus, this is Regis Philbin. Your brother is here at the set of _Who Wants to Save His Brother? _playing for the welfare of your brother Caius. He's on his final question and can use your help. You'll have thirty seconds with him on the phone. Are you ready?"

"Sure," Marcus sighs distractedly.

"Aro, your time starts now."

Aro reads the question to his brother. "Who played Bruce Wayne in the Batman movie released in 1989? Was it Michael Keaton or Adam West?"

"I believe they were both Batman at one time or another."

"Yes, I know. But which one played him in 1989?"

"Nineteen-eighty-nine…let's see…hmm…Christopher Reeves played Superman…didn't George Clooney play a Batman once?"

"It's Michael Keaton you _stupid_, _senile_ _sacks of shit_," Alucard murmurs through his gnashed fangs. His fists are balled so tightly that they are turning blue.

"Marcus, focus," Aro instructs patiently. "Your choices are Michael Keaton and Adam West."

"Ten seconds" Regis announces.

"Bruce Wayne…the Dark Knight…you want a dark hero? Forget fancy rich boy. Tom Jane in _The Punisher_, now _there's_ a dark hero; he lost everyth—" The line goes dead.

"Aw, I'm afraid your time is up. Phone a brother didn't work out to well for you, did he? Well, you've still got it narrowed down to two, so care to make a guess?"

Aro's brow crinkles further as he stares down at his screen, then he looks at Regis and casually brings his hand up to scratch at the back of his head. "I may not get another chance to say this, so I'd just like to let you know what a truly great honor it has been to meet you." While he says this, he leans forward and gracefully reaches across the computer monitors to lay his hand on Regis's arm.

Aro is not that sentimental. He's got the power to read anything that has ever crossed a person's mind, but he has to be touching them to do it. Philbin smiles uncomfortably, and Aro drops his hand with a disgusted huff. Philbin doesn't know the answer, either.

"Michael Keaton," Alucard states yet again, but very calmly this time with his eyes fixed on the screen. He's trying to work his juju long distance.

Aro sits back and resumes pondering the screen. "Michael Keaton?" he mutters to himself.

A tiny corner of Alucard's mouth turns up.

"Is that your final answer?" Regis asks.

"No."

Alucard's mouth falls into a hard, straight line.

Aro considers another answer, "Could it be Adam West?"

"IT'S MICHAEL KEATON, YOU CHILD MOLESTING FREAK!!!" Alucard shouts.

Aro looks up from the screen and fixes his clouded eyes on Philbin. "I have my final answer."

"**MICHAEL KEATON!!!**" Alucard bellows.

"I'll take Adam West."

Alucard cries out like one of the damned, "**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!**" He drops to his knees out of despair. How could he have allowed this disrespect of Michael Keaton's absolute ownership of the Bat Man right before his eyes?

Regis clucks his tongue good-naturedly. "Sorry Aro, but it looks like you got that one wrong."

Aro then looks at the camera, hoping that Caius can hear him. "Sorry about that, Caius; you know that I tried my best. When you're killed, I'll probably replace you with another vampire, but there will be a ten minute period where I'll be positively inconsolable."

The station cuts to fuzz and stays that way for a few minutes.

Alucard scowls, all his good humor erased. "That fat son of a bitch is getting on my nerves. But don't worry, children, I've got a little something to wipe that smile off of his face." Without further ado, he stands, wipes the sand from his knees and whips out the Jackal.

Integra casts a murderous glare on her vampire. She never approved him bringing the weapon…of course, she'd never specifically ordered "No Jackal" either, but she'd figured "Don't do anything stupid to get us disqualified!" was all encompassing. She'd figured wrong. However, she can't deny that this is a rather fortuitous use of a loophole, so she relaxes her stance.

Edward gazes in shock at the monstrously oversized black pistol that Alucard holds in his hand. "Dear Lord," is all he can say.

Jasper is equally shocked. This one far surpasses anything Alucard had whipped out in the cave. "What is that?"

Walter proudly explains his creation, "It's the Jackal Anti-FREAK combat pistol. It fires thirteen millimeter silver-cased mercury-tipped bullets powered by a chemical cartridge whose name is classified."

Edward is both incredulous and slightly amused. "Why on earth did you feel the need to make it so massive?"

Alucard answers for Walter. "Because it's much more frightening. Would you want me to walk around with a little toy pistol? And while you mock this wonderful weapon, let me show you its tremendous and earth shaking powers."

Suddenly, Alucard draws his gun to aim and fires on Jasper. But when he pulls the trigger, nothing happens. Jasper's head isn't blown apart. Instead, Alucard's gun falls to pieces in his hand, revealing a white slip of paper inside the handle.

"What the…?" Confused, Alucard opens up the paper and starts to read the messy handwriting aloud.

_Dear Alucard, _

_I used parts of your gun to fix the microwave. I promise I'll replace them soon. _

_Signed, Zohall_

"SON OF A BITCH!!!!!" Zohall Mercer had better hope that Millennium kills him before Alucard gets to him.

Grunting, Alucard throws the useless handle of his gun into the horizon.

Edward looks to the others. "I don't understand, why didn't he bring the weapon out earlier? We could have avoided that whole ambush of Kennedy."

Seras sniffs and crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at her master.

"Oh, of course—he enjoys that sort of thing," Edward concludes.

While Alucard starts to swear like a sailor with Tourettes syndrome, Seras investigates the little piece of paper left by Zohall. It seems that her master neglected to read part of the note. She reads aloud.

_PS: I found little explosive thingies inside the gun. Are those supposed to be there?_

At the mention of explosive thingies, Jasper is sure that he can detect the slightest bit of guilt coming off of the Hellsing butler. Edward can also sense something is off with Walter; as soon as Seras started to read, he began to recite _God Save the Queen _in his head over and over again.

The Major is back on the television screen. "I hope you enjoyed that. Now ve have a bit uff business to take care uff, do we not?"

A low growl simmers in the back of Jasper's throat. "If you do anything to harm Regis, I swear to God I will—"

"Regis Philbin? He's a great guy. Vy vould I do anything to harm him?" The Major seems sincerely affronted at the accusation. "There is something seriously wrong vith you, Herr Whitlock, if you think I vould do any such thing to Reege."

Suddenly, the sand shifts under Edward's and Seras's feet. Seras gasps as the granules flow around her ankles and grip tight. She just annihilated a battalion of synthetic vampires, but somehow this is more frightening. It's mysterious and completely unknown. Edward also fears the unknown, but more than that, he hopes to survive the ordeal long enough to be able to look into Bella's eyes one more time.

Everyone tenses and looks down at the sand, poised to do battle, but what's the point? They know the Major is going to get them one way or another, and they've already determined that—assuming the sand doesn't extinguish them—they can do more good off the island than on it. On the other hand, none of these people here are programmed to back down from a fight. Sand is about to go flying.

While they carefully watch the ground, waiting for the sand to make its next move, an enormous bird swoops in out of nowhere and clamps one claw at the back of Edward's neck and the other at the back of Seras's and lifts them up off the beach. Before the others realize what's happening, Edward and Seras are up in the air and out of their reach. The two of them should have no trouble pummeling a giant bird, but the creature holds them in a Vulcan-type grip so that they can't move.

They hang by the scruffs of their neck with their shoulders slumped and their arms and legs dangling helplessly. They can't move a damned thing except their eyeballs, which are starting to bug out. The bird flies them over the dark ocean, further and further from the island, and as they become ever smaller to the four remaining on the beach, they roll their bulging eyes toward each other, glad that, whatever their limp forms are about to face, they're going to face it together.

Alucard, Integra, Jasper and Walter watch them disappear and feel the significance of this departure. Seras is the first Hellsing to leave and Jasper is the last Cullen to remain. Integra bends her head from side to side, stretching her neck. It's been a long day. She doesn't relish the thought of a long trek through the jungle to the bungalow, but the makeshift bed that awaits her there will make the hike worth it.

"Vell, onto the next challenge," the Major announces.

"What? Now?" Integra snaps. Walter merely groans. Alucard's spirits lift a bit; he'd had a ball on that last challenge. Jasper, with no need for rest, is glad to keep this thing going. The sooner it ends, the better.

"Ja, now," the Major confirms. "Follow the beach to the north and you vill see the challenge all set up for you."

They silently follow the beach to the north and come to two rows of lit torches that form a wide corridor. At the opposite end of the corridor stand four objects that are about the height of a tall man, but not quite as tall as Alucard. Each object is covered with a black canvas. They start to walk toward the objects, and about fifty feet away, they find four bows and a quiver holding exactly four arrows.

"I see you've found your equipment." Jeff Probst walks out from behind what are apparently the targets. He actually toddles more than walks because his body is encompassed by a bulbous suit of metal, including what looks like a vintage scuba helmet over his sandy head. The suit sizzles and sparks with electrical currents.

The torchlight reflects off the glass of Probst's facemask, but the contestants are just certain he's wearing a cocky grin. He thinks this little suit of his will keep him safe from them. But Alucard knows he can crack him like a nut and devour his insides, absorbing his memories and knowledge with his putrid blood. And if he thought the twerp would be in possession of anything worth knowing, that's exactly what he'd do. But with Alucard's sadism sated for the moment, any information contained in Probst is simply not worth the effort of choking down his nasty corpuscles.

"You're playing for immunity," Probst announces through a microphone in his suit. You'll each have one arrow to loose; whoever comes closest to the center of their target wins. Let's have a look at those targets now."

He waddles stiffly back to the first target and pulls off the canvas. It's a standard 122 cm target with four concentric bands of color. In the center of the target is Carlisle's head. His nose is the bull's-eye.

_Swoosh_. The next swath of canvas is pulled away to reveal Esme's lovely head. _Swoosh_. Bella. _Swoosh_. Rosalie

"Grab a bow and arrow and select your target," Jeff instructs.

They each pick up a bow, and Walter holds out the quiver from which they each slide an arrow. Integra stands across from Carlisle's target. It seems only fitting that the Hellsing leader should be matched with the head of the Cullen clan.

Walter steps next to her, across from Esme, while Alucard lines himself up in front of Rosalie with his lips stretched wide over his pointed teeth. These challenges just keep getting better and better. A massive force blasts into his side and nearly knocks him down into the sand.

"This one's mine!" Jasper shouts.

Alucard rights himself and grasps Jasper's face in his gloved hand and twists it. "You had your chance to prove yourself in that cave, and you curled up like an infant and sucked your thumb."

Jasper delivers a painful blow to Alucard's gut. Alucard flinches for a moment but only intensifies his grip on Whitlock's face. He's not messing around with this punk anymore and is going to tear his head off and eat it, even if it costs him all his teeth to do so. Jasper kicks him in the knee and makes him stumble.

Alucard growls. "Releasing control art restriction—"

"Vampire!" Integra's voice booms. "Mr. Whitlock is not our enemy. Stand down and move to the next target."

Alucard releases Jasper's face with a thrust that sends the Unstet stumbling, and without another word moves over to the target with Bella's head attached.

As he walks away, Rosalie's head chides, "Boys, boys, really. No need to fight over me."

Jasper doesn't give her the satisfaction of a response, but only waits patiently for his chance to make her the brunt of all his angst.

"Sir Hellsing, you'll go first," Probst announces.

Integra nocks her arrow onto the bowstring and draws it up, holding the string at her ear. She's no novice to archery. Her tactical mind has also absorbed the encouraging new development that Rosalie has not been destroyed, which means that their numbers are in tact and when the opportunity is right, they'll be able to overtake the Major and his crew.

Integra thinks through various strategies, and it suddenly hits her that no one is hearing these thoughts. Edward is gone. The mind reader is _gone_. For the first time since merging with the Cullens her mind is her own. In this case, she'd actually wanted to share her thoughts, but there have been many, _many_ times when she'd had to curb her thoughts from wandering into rather embarrassing directions. Now, she realizes, there will be no need for that. She's got her vampire well trained to stay out unless invited, so now she's free to let her imagination go wild.

_What am I doing?_ She thinks and shakes her head back into focus. The sleep deprivation is getting to her. _Challenge first, fantasies later._ She closes one eye and zeros in on her target with the other. Carlisle's expression is one of quiet acceptance. He won't begrudge what Integra has to do; it has to be done, and he will accept it. Such a noble spirit. In the torchlight his caramel-colored eyes shine with altruism and courage. Two of the qualities Integra most respects in a man.

She unwittingly conjures a vision of Carlisle's altruistic and courageous bod wet, naked and glorious in a warm shower. The soap slips out of his hand and the bowstring slips from Integra's fingers. The arrow speeds toward Carlisle and glances off his forehead, falling impotently to the ground. Integra internally curses herself with a string of profanity worthy of the entire British Navy, but on the outside she only grimaces.

"We move on to Walter, with no arrows on the board," Probst prompts.

Walter draws his bow and takes aim. He knows that attempting to strike a vulnerable spot in the Unstet's skull would be a risky move, so he's going to play this conservative. Esme tries to be as brave as Carlisle, but her lower lip quivers and her gentle eyes are as wide as a doe's when caught in the headlights. He releases the bowstring, and the arrow _schings_ through the air to sink into target right next to Esme's left ear. Esme sighs with relief, and Walter gives her a wink. Marring her sweet countenance would've been a shame. She reminds him of a nanny he used to bang when Integra was a small child.

"Walter's on the board. Can Alucard get closer than that?"

Bella whimpers. "Where's Edward? Where's my Edward. There's been a hole in my chest ever since I had to leave him behind on the island."

Alcuard casually nocks his arrow in the string and drawls, "Please shut up while I put a hole somewhere else in you."

"Edward's being transported to the headquarters, isn't he? Oh, please tell me he's fine and that I'm going to see him again. I wouldn't want to go on if I thought I'd never see him again. He's my whole life."

"Answer me one question and I'll tell you whatever you want," Alucard bargains while aims his weapon at the target. "Who played Bruce Wayne in the Batman movie released in 1989?"

"Wasn't it Christian Ba—_chsdht_." The arrow now punctures Bella's uvula, because Alucard will not stand to hear _that_ cretin's name associate with the Bat Man.

"And Alucard is now the one to beat with his arrow mere centimeters from the bull's-eye. Jasper, you have one arrow and one shot at winning this challenge."

Even as only a head, Rosalie is haughty. Her pretentious nose is in the air as always. With steely coldness Jasper raises his weapon and closes his eyes. The only thing guiding him is his desire to put this bombastic bimbo in her place.

"For Regis," he murmurs and looses his arrow. The shaft flies cleanly through the air and the point drives directly into Rosalie's nostril, sticking at the exact center of the target.

Probst tries to throw his metal clad arms in the air, but he pulls a John McCain, and the others can barely hear him announce "Jasper wins immunity!" over Rosalie's indignant shrieking.

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**Author's Notes:**

Is anyone really surprised that I let Jasper win this challenge? If so, then you don't know me very well at all, do you? O_o The new poll is up at my profile, so vote away for either Alucard, Integra, or Walter. I'll keep that poll open until April 14.

Much thanks to Master of the Boot for his contributions to this chapter and for being there whenever I call on him. You're still my Alfred, buddy. This chapter contained (some w/ permission some w/o) cryptic references to his highly entertaining story,_ The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair_. Bonus points if you can guess what they were.

I'd like to give a shout out to Fallen Monkey, who's fabulous short story "Four Somethings and a Six Pence" took the numero uno spot in an Accentuate Services writing competition and will be published (squee!) in the _Elements of Love_ anthology due for release this November. Brava, FaMo.

And much thanks to you, darling readers, for coming back and leaving me reviews and setting the story and me on alert and favorites. You make me :)

Wishing you all a blessed Easter celebration,

-LiLa


	17. The chapter in which we see more bunny

This chapter is 92.4% written by Master of the Boot. Much thanks to him for his extreme patience with me while I held his writings hostage.

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Chapter 17

The chapter in which we see more bunny

Alucard is less than pleased with the results of the challenge. The sparkly weenie has bested him at the bow. The Nosferatu knows he has nobody to blame for this but himself. With his clairvoyant third eye, he should never miss his target with any kind of ranged weapon. Of course, he didn't mean to win, but that's a moot point.

His original objective on this island was to see that his master won the competition. To do that, he was prepared not only to sacrifice himself, but to resort to any dirty, underhanded tactic that he could get away with. While Millennium robbed him of the chance to get some cheating in, they did give him a chance to rake down some serious carnage. He's grateful for that much.

His strategy has not changed; he'll readily sacrifice himself to see that Integra does not wind up in Millennium's hands. Her careless performance in this latest challenge did not help. Alucard chalks her sloppy release up to her want of cigars and booze. Has to be.

Bubble Boy Probst beckons the contestants over for Tribal Council, but the next challenge is soon to be announced, and Alucard wants to add to his arsenal to be ready for it. He saunters over toward the targets to gather up the remaining arrows. From underneath his jacket, Alucard conjures a bottle of holy water, blessed by the Archbishop of Canterbury. First he grabs Integra's arrow off the sand and gives the tip a little sprinkle of the blessed H²O.

Looking up from the ground, he turns to spot the head of Carlisle stuck on the target. Alucard stares into Carlisle's topaz eyes that are rapidly turning black, He can find no trace of fear. How odd; Alucard is used to inspiring fear in people. He enjoys that feature of himself. But seeing not a trace of it in this misguided vampire's eyes is oddly…calming? He quickly moves on without a word.

Carlisle is equally mystified by the slightly reverent look he detects in Alucard's eyes, but doesn't say a thing. He figures that a guy like Alucard would like to keep it hush-hush. Like kissing a man who you thought was a woman, you don't acknowledge it in any way except with knowing glances and awkward silence.

Next Alucard moves over to Esme and yanks the arrow from next to her head. He casually murmurs to the mothering Unstet, "I find you very attractive but let's not kid ourselves; I'm still waiting for Integra to reach the right age."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" shouts Integra. She's come up behind him to see what's taking so long.

Alucard is the picture of cool and calm. "It's nothing for you to concern yourself over, my master."

Integra sees him with the arrows in his hand and doesn't object. She knows he'll use the additional weaponry to help her as much as himself in whatever they're going to face next.

"You've only got two more to collect; be quick about it," she orders under her breath. "I'll do what I can to stall Probst."

As Integra fades back to the beach and the whining game show host, Alucard

steps over to Rosalie, everyone's spoiled little princess. He greets her like a hated enemy, "Hey Rose-a-slut, how passes the day?"

She begins to form an f-bomb before he unceremoniously yanks the arrow from her stuck up nose. The pain of it causes her to shout out, "Slimy son of a bitch!"

"Keep it down," he snarls. He scoops up a mound of sand and shoves it into her mouth to muffle her screech.

He uses holy water to wash off the Unstet venom, which would quickly dissolve the arrowhead and render it a useless piece of composite material. "Listen, and listen to me very well. As of right now, I have a headache. If you prove useful to me, you won't aggravate my headache. If you aggravate my headache, _I'll eat your pretty little niece_." On the italicised words, Alucard's hair floats and twists like the hair of Medusa, and his monstrous grin takes up the whole bottom of his face, flashing off a mouthful of teeth that would make a Great White Shark envious.

Rose is horrified; next to Emmett's penis, Renesmee is the thing she loves most in the entire universe. She'd die for that child. The thought of that madman stealthily sneaking into Renesmee's room in the dead of night without anyone knowing and…and…

The thought is too horrible to entertain. It's time for her to realize that Alucard isn't some ego-inflated jock at the innumerable high schools she's been to. He's completely insane and wouldn't think twice about raping her family to death and mowing them down with a machine gun. She tries to be gracious in defeat, "I won't give you any trouble." For now.

Alucard chuckles, "That's the spirit, Rosie-posy." He then runs a gloved hand through her golden locks. She's going to need a Shinto priest and a fuckload of expensive shampoo in order to purify her hair when this is all over.

And now there is Bella. The usually docile Cullen is now snarling and snapping. Her razor teeth make short work of the arrow jutting out of her throat. Alucard frowns, that was a pretty cool arrow she just destroyed. She spits the last of the arrow from her throat.

Bella snarls at Alucard. It's a real proper snarl, scarier than anything on TV. "If you even dream about touching my child, I'll pull out your eyes, rip off your balls, put them into your eye sockets, and shove your eyes into your ball sack!" Bella has had a pretty rough time on this island. Rose made a total fool of her in the rain and during her imprisonment by Millennium, and she's got a lot of pent up frustration and aggression.

Alucard doesn't have enough time to give Bella a witty comeback because his ears are tormented by the bubbly idiocy of Jeff Probst, now a sand zombie in an electrified diving suit. "Hey guys, you don't want to keep the Major waiting! I mean, you wouldn't know it, but he has a very short attention span."

Alucard sneers at the once cute Probst.

His attention is captured by Bella's growling head. How the hell can a severed head talk, let alone growl? Curiosity getting the better of him, Alucard reaches down and yanks Bella's head off the target. To his surprise, it comes attached with a windpipe and two lungs, like flexible lumps of granite.

The rest of the party looks on in surprise and horror.

Alucard just says, "That's new." Bella snarls at him again, this time it's enough to make a full grown lion piss himself. It makes Alucard horny.

Her snarly fit calms down, and Alucard puts himself face to face with Bella. "Hey girl."

"Yes?" Bella is still angry, but she's also more than a bit afraid of Alucard.

He knows from his research that Bella Cullen has a strong suicidal streak. Maybe he can work that to his advantage. "You care for your family, do you not?"

She bites her lower lip, an idiotic habit from her human days. "Yes."

Alucard presses his case to her. "And you would hate for them to get injured or hurt in any way, even that blond bitch."

Bella concedes reluctantly, "Yes."

"And you would love to kill anyone who had a hand in their imprisonment and humiliation?"

"Yes!" she cries vengefully.

"You would love to help me kill all who threaten your husband and daughter?"

"Yes!"

"I'm going to kill one of the men responsible!"

"YES!"

"Can I use your head as a softball?"

Bella is too thick headed for Alucard's words to register. She's seeing red, and every bit of revenge is good. "Go for it!"

Alucard cautions her, hoping to get a little more fear out of her. "It's going to hurt, very badly."

She shouts, "Just do this! I want to see them all squeal like pigs for what they've done to my happy ending! I want them to go to hell and die over and over again."

Alucard smiles. "You sound just like I did at your age." Except Alucard had a deeper voice.

Bella's look of horror is so comical and so epic that it should have a plaster cast made of it to be used as a Greek theatre mask. In a small voice she says to him, "Please don't say that."

Probst waddles in his armoured suit. "Guys, what's taking you?"

Shuffling towards Alucard proves to be a fatal mistake for the Jeffster. His slow sand zombie reflexes don't help him when Bella's head (with lungs) flies at him with as much force as an artillery shell.

Bella's skull proves to be harder than the electrified helmet. The electric charge badly scorches her head, but it tears a gaping hole in the metal armour and shatters the bulletproof faceplate into oblivion.

Jeff fails to keep his balance and flies head over heels from the force of the blow. Landing flat on his back, Probst groans, sounding more like a proper zombie.

Alucard casually grabs a razor sharp metal swastika out of his pocket.

Then he throws the metal swastika like a ninja star and hits Probst right in the eye.

Probst howls in agony. His eyes remain buried beneath a layer of sand, but they still hurt, especially when there are pieces of metal stuck in them. Clumsily he tries to pull it out, but the bulky suit restricts his movements, so Alucard yanks it out for him, nearly tearing out Jeff's eye in the process. The sand encrusted orb dangles out by the optic nerve, but with some agonizing pain and a little help from the Dok of Millennium, that eye'll be right as rain in no time.

Carlisle calls to Bella's head. One lung has been burned off along with half of her hair. "Bella, are you alright?" There's an enormous burn mark just above her forehead, and from this angle, Esme is horrified to realize that she can see Bella's brains.

In a dazed voice, Bella replies, "I like men."

Carlisle breathes a sigh of relief. Bella's going to be alright; she'll just be out of commission for a while.

Alucard faces the Major's smiling visage on the giant TV. He seems unshaken by Alucard's wonton violence. Hellsing's trump card explains to the leader of the Leztest Battalion. "Sorry about your zombie. It was an accident."

Probst rolls around on the ground in agony, groaning, "I didn't sign up for this…" He'll live, but there's definitely a dent put into his mood.

Integra spies a stack of index cards in the sand and a Sharpie. She glances at Probst. "Well, it's going to be a while before he does anything useful. I suggest we get started on our own."

Walter grabs the voting supplies and doles them out. He knows exactly how this is going to go down. Jasper has immunity, so no one can vote for him. Alucard won't vote for Integra, and with Alucard's behavior ever more erratic, Integra is unlikely to send her pet packing outside of her grasp. His only hope is Jasper's vote.

. . . . .

While Alucard had played around with the dismembered Cullens and Integra was distracted by keeping a close eye on him, Walter had worked on the full-bodied Unstet. If he could get Jasper's vote, he could force a tie and at least have a fifty percent chance of winning whatever cockamamie tie-breaker Mark Burnett cooked up this time.

"How much longer before he blows up the entire island?" Walter had wondered aloud with a nod toward the Nosferatu at the targets. "Being trapped here is stretching what's left of his sanity, pushing him over the thin line he so dangerously straddles. It might be wise to send him away now, before it's too late. If he doesn't get his crack at the Major soon, he won't be of any use to any of us."

Alucard himself had told Jasper that getting sent from the island was exactly what he wanted, yet Jasper had a big problem with that scenario. "And give him free reign over the rest of my family as well?" Jasper had shuddered at the thought of Alice's spiky black hair above a pair of bloodied eye sockets. "No! I'll not let him anywhere near Alice without me there to protect her."

Walter remained calm. He didn't want Jasper to feel his desperation, but rather his reassurance. "Ah, but Carlisle will be there."

"Carlisle? No disrespect to him—he's an amazing person—but he's out of his league with Alucard. Carlisle can't control him any more than he can stop himself from sparkling like a Vegas showgirl in the sunlight."

Walter had pursed his lips in a small smile and given his head a thoughtful tilt. "You haven't known Alucard as long as I have. You can't understand the nuances of his mind."

"By nuances I assume you mean dark pits teaming with vinegar and rot."

Just then Rosalie had screamed across the sand.

Walter ignored both Jasper's remark and Rosalie's scream. "You know the story of him and Carlisle in the Great War, how he destroyed the child ghouls."

Jasper spit out a bitter laugh and watched Alucard double back to Bella.

"It wasn't like you thought, Mr. Whitlock. He claims that he did it because Carlisle wouldn't have been able to bring himself to destroy children, ghouls or not, but that isn't so."

Jasper turned to him with a curious crinkle to his narrowed eyes, and Walter saw that he finally had his attention.

"He knew Carlisle would do it," Walter explained. "But he also knew that it would tear him up, that for the rest of his existence Carlisle would live with the regret of what he'd done." Walter watched Jasper's gaze turn skeptical. "Of course, Alucard cares nothing for the regrets and sorrows of others, well, other than to revel in it, but things were different with Carlisle.

"He watched him throughout the war, first as a curiosity—a vampire who refused to feed on humans, denied his very nature. Then he grew resentful, saw him as a self-righteous impostor, preening for the humans. He tried exposing the good doctor for what he thought he was, but Carlisle passed every test, and Alucard grew to understand that it wasn't an act, that Carlisle Cullen truly was exactly what he appeared to be. And although Alucard will never admit it, to himself least of all, he acquired a reluctant respect for this renegade vampire that was breaking all the rules of his nature.

"Now, this part is pure theory on my part, but I believe that Alucard sees Carlisle as a missing piece of himself. The good, benevolent part that Alcuard packed up tightly and kept tucked away, hidden from the world for so long. The part that he eventually cast off entirely. Alucard doesn't want that part of himself back, he believes he's better off without it, and yet he wants to know it's out there.

"Alucard didn't want Carlisle to slay those children. He knew that doing so would have changed the doctor somehow, left a stain on his pure soul that could never be erased. By slaying the children himself, Alucard preserved his image of Carlisle and in a sense appointed himself Carlisle's covert protector. So, no, Mr. Whitlock, Alucard will not bring any real, lasting harm to Carlisle or his family.

"Alucard is a blood soaked psychopath, but he's our blood soaked psychopath. He's chosen to fight on the side of good, and he counts your family as part of our side. Read what you will into it."

There was a steadiness to Walter as he delivered his assessment. He wasn't trying to bullshit Jasper, but sincerely bought into this theory, and Jasper was impressed with its plausibility. He suddenly realized that he knew nothing about the elderly butler's experience and training.

"Mr. Dornez, are you a psychiatrist?"

"I dabble." Walter shrugged. He exuded only nonchalance and controlled the part of him that wanted to do a happy dance. He was winning Jasper over. Before he could launch into the final argument to seal the deal, Probst had screamed out in agony. Jasper and Walter looked over to see the metal star protruding from his eyeball.

Walter winced when Alucard yanked out the star along with all but a thin strand of ocular matter. He winced not in sympathy for Probst, but at the damage the vampire's latest stunt just did to the case he'd so carefully constructed.

. . . . .

Through the sobs of extreme pain, Probst picks himself up. He jams his eyeball back into the socket and clamps his eye shut over it. Then he waddles over to the group and snatches the completed cards from everyone. It's difficult to see through the jagged bits of glass on his helmet, so he tears it off and reads the cards with his good eye. No one is surprised when he announces three Walters and one Alucard.

"Vell, vell, vell," the Major cackles from the television. "How is it ve shall dispose of our first human to leave the game?"

"Fuck this!" Probst shouts and grasps Walter's bony wrist and begins waddling in the direction of the pier. "My contract specifically states that I'm to be immediately evacuated from the island for medical attention in cases of extreme injury." He stops and turns toward the television screen, pointing to the blood oozing out of his closed eye. "I'd say _this_ is an extreme mother fucking injury! So you are out of your fucking mind if you think I'm sticking around here to wait for your fucking sand tricks or your giant fucking bird. If you've got a fucking problem with that, take it up with my fucking agent!"

He turns to resume walking, but stumbles in his space suit. "Fuck!" He furiously struggles out of the impotent protective suit with surprising speed, re-grabs Walter's arm, and leads him away, wearing only his camp shirt and his khaki fucking shorts.

For the first time since his chubby face has appeared on the screen, the Major looks nonplussed. He turns to his left, as if expecting someone to tell him what to do, and then turns abruptly back to face the Survivors. "Fine. I vill give you instructions for the next challenge myself. During the previous challenge, a rabbit stole the immunity idol. Ve haff not seen it since und presume the rabbit still has it. Your challenge, then, is to track the rabbit to the lair—all ve know is that it is near the center of the island—und retrieve the idol. Whoever is first to return to this beach vith the idol in hand vill get to keep it for the next Tribal Council. That is all." The television cuts to fuzz and Jasper, Integra, and Alucard stand alone on the beach.

Alucard can't believe how easy this challenge is going to be. Go out into the jungle and grab that stupid immunity idol that's been giving everyone the willies. Everyone but him, of course; he has a sex toy that looks just like it back home.

"Normally I'd take off running to get to the idol first," Jasper explains. "But given what Millenium threw at us last time, I think we'd be wise to stick close together."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Mr. Whitlock. Did they teach you how to do that in Unstet school?" Integra snips before shoving past both vampires toward the tree line.

Alucard smiles thinking of how cute and irritable his master is when she's deprived of tobacco. Then he and Jasper follow the Hellsing leader. The trio cautiously moves toward the center of the island through the dense rain forest, which is devoid of bird and insect calls. When they encounter rivers, Jasper makes himself useful by kicking down trees to use as bridges.

Alucard is unhappy without something in front of him to kill and eagerly anticipates the upside to this challenge—if all goes well, he's going to be able to kill that fluffy bunny. After walking for a long while, he grins to himself and reaches inside his bottomless jacket, pulling out a medium-sized box and opening it. The moonlight reflects off of a shiny, high carbon stainless steel surface, casting Alucard's features in a ghastly glow. From the box Alucard whips out a massive carving knife. The No-Life King proudly gazes over fourteen inches of German forged steel with an oak handle. The curved blade features a flat grind, which makes it stronger and heavier than a hollow ground knife.

Pointing his blade to the heavens like the subject of a Frank Franczetti painting, Alucard utters a throaty proclamation. "At last, my arm is complete again."

Holding the knife in his teeth, Alucard takes off his hat and reaches inside of it. From his floppy fedora he withdraws a honking big .44 magnum with gold inlay on the barrel and a stylized "A" on the handle.

Integra's eyes bulge at the sight of the flashy weapon. "Where did you get _that!_"

Alucard easily deflects the situation. "I acquired this fine weapon before coming into the island. It's Albanian. We had better be on the lookout, if my senses are correct, that idol will be up ahead very soon."

Jasper rips through a wall of vines like gossamer and holds it open for Integra. The last remaining Cullen smells the unique blend of bunny and undeath. They've reached the lair of the rabbit. It sits in the center of a bowl shaped depression in the island's volcanic rock.

Alucard feels the rabbit's presence. This time, Jasper Whusslock won't stop him from getting his dues on that furry critter.

Integra is about to step down into the depression when Jasper holds out an arm to stop her. "Look," he murmurs.

From out of a cave hops the bunny rabbit. It only goes for a short distance before hunkering down and twitching its nose in a very rabbit-like fashion.

"How dare you impede my movements," Integra huffs with indignation.

She doesn't understand the gravity of the situation, so Jasper explains it to her. "Don't go down there. That there rabbit is the meanest tempered animal in this hemisphere."

Alucard concurs, "He's right master. I've seen that rodent in action. It's like me if I were to do a great deal of coke."

Integra is shocked. "I cannot believe the both of you. To think that two mighty vampires such as yourselves are frightened by a little furry mammal."

Alucard snarls his displeasure most respectfully. "I am not afraid of that rabbit!" He can't speak for his companion.

Jasper, however, is a bit more mature about this. "Sir Integra, you haven't fought the creature. It attacked me and Alucard during the last challenge, and it proved to be quite dangerous."

The No-Life King scoffs. "Of course that rabbit is dangerous. I created it."

Jasper's boyishly handsome features twist into a look of surprise.

Integra is furious at Alucard but manages to keep a leash on her anger. "How did you create that infernal creature?"

Her servant is honest. "When we were served a meal of live animals, the police girl was being shy about eating, so I got an appetizer ready for her. Apparently my fledgling has a thing or two to learn about obeying her master, because she clearly set my offering free.

Integra's eyes narrow at Alucard.

"How was I to know it was a virgin? Is the term 'going at it like rabbits' just an urban legend then?"

Integra ignores the latest comment. "How long have you known?"

"I had my suspicions when a ghoul monkey turned up, but it was confirmed when the furry little bastard took my eyes out in a totally unprovoked attack."

"Well then," Integra surmises, "if it's your fledgling, you should be able to control it."

Alucard shakes his head. "Not in this case. The rabbit has feasted off of live blood, and it has grown away from me, much faster than a human vampire would, in fact. This is possibly due to the rabbit's higher metabolism and shorter lifespan. At the moment, the best I can do is corral it."

The rabbit begins gnawing on a large, white stick that looks suspiciously like a bone. "Mr. Whitlock, can your powers affect the lower order of creatures?"

The Whitlock is uncertain of the answer, although he's glad she's not calling him Hale. "I'm not sure. I can sense animal's emotions, depending on the species. I've felt rabbit's emotions before, but they are very faint, and I'm not sure that I can influence them without being in very close proximity."

The course of action is very clear to Integra. "Alucard, go down there with Mr. Whitlock and tame that animal."

Alucard looks stunned for a moment. "Is that your order, my master?"

Integra will tolerate no insubordination. "Do not question me, slave."

Her vampire had been looking forward to killing that rabbit. Alucard hates children and animals, small ones most of all. But there is no way around his master's orders. She's been so much more inflexible since that massacre in South America.

Alucard suggests to Jasper, "You go first." To accentuate his point, he shoves Jasper into the stony pit below. Jasper, with reflexes that make a panther look clumsy, rapidly rebounds and jumps to his feet without getting even a spec of dust on his expensive Joma Sport shirt or his camo-coloured Cabela's shorts.

By contrast, Alucard seems to ooze into the pit as if he were made of slime. The man moves as if he had no bones. Jasper has never seen anything like it except for with some of the more suspect characters in Emmett's anime collection.

Now that they're in the pit, Jasper gives Alucard the spread. "You have to go ahead; animals normally hate my kind."

It's times like this that Alucard hates logic. Putting on a poker face, he slowly approaches the rabbit. Jasper senses waves of irritation, like the rays of a tanning bed.

The rabbit's eyes follow the mismatched pair like a set of deep red marbles and starts to growl. It would be adorable if one were to ignore the pearly fangs poking out of the rabbit's mouth.

Coat billowing out magnificently, Alucard exerts his psychic influence on the creature. _Calm down or I'll fucking kill you. Stay calm or I'll fucking kill you. I am your master; obey me or I'll fucking kill you._

Jasper grasps the first faint strands of emotions off the animal. The more complex a creature's brain is, the more vividly he can feel and control the emotions. It's like grasping at dandelion seeds on the wind. Difficult, but if you move slowly enough it's possible.

There, the first grasp on the rabbit's emotions. The little creature is full of fear. It's afraid of Alucard. It's afraid of dying, of not finding a mate, and many other base fears. Unlike with regular rabbits, however, this isn't flight fear. This is a full on defensive fear. The animal will defend itself at all costs. Jasper needs to turn down that fear. Ah, there we go. He has a good grip on it.

Alucard can detect that Jasper has a hold on the lagomorph, its fangs have retracted, so he changes the tone of his psychic commands. _Stay where you are. You will not be harmed._

Integra stands at the edge of the crater doing nothing and looking badass while she does it. That's pretty much all she can contribute to the effort at this point. Being human isn't all noble keep-your-soul type crap; there's a lot of doing nothing while the benevolent monsters do the dirty work. And with Alucard, "benevolent" is used in the loosest way possible.

Jasper watches Alucard yank a weeks-old dead chicken out of his jacket and throw it aside. Then he grabs a used condom and throws that away. He pulls out a marble arm, and Jasper realizes that its an Unstet arm. Alucard nearly throws it away, but instead he kisses the arm and puts it back into his coat. Honestly, Jasper doesn't even want to know what this guy is carrying around with him.

Suddenly, Alucard has an epiphany. He pulls from his coat a blood bag. He's had it with him for a while now in case he got hungry. The blood must be the reason the rabbit attacked him in the first place. He throws the packet to the ground, and the rabbit tears it open and starts to feed. Watching the rabbit gulp the stuff down, Jasper can feel the venom pooling in his mouth. It's rather sad—his father can wade through entire rooms of fresh hemoglobin without temptation, yet Jasper's about to lose all control over a stale bag of the stuff.

The rabbit sucks the last of the blood down, removing the temptation. But by golly, Jasper is so jealous of that stupid little fur ball.

Alucard smiles at Jasper in a cruel sort of way. He would take great pleasure in seeing the little cousin-marrying douche slip and fall. It's not enough that Alucard wants people to die; he also needs to see them fail at all they hold dear.

The seven foot vampire looks the vampire rabbit in the eyes and uses what Pip Bernadotte refers to as "the sex beam." Actually, it's more like mind control that leaves people with a goofy grin plastered all over their faces. The rabbit gets a dreamy look in its eyes and melts under Alucard's influence. He gently picks up the animal and starts stroking it.

Jasper wastes no time. He sprints into the cave at speeds invisible to the human eye and locates the demonic idol. The thing doesn't look very heavy, but it inexplicably makes him doubt his strength. He has a little inkling now of why the object had frightened his wife.

Before he can grab it, a lasso flies over his shoulder and snatches the idol up. With a flick of his wrist, Alucard spins the idol in a lazy circle with his rope lasso. During his Dracula days he spent a few years in Mongolia and learned knot tying and the art of the lasso. Of course, back in those days his lasso skills were put to use on human necks during acts of banditry. But that's neither here nor there.

Alucard grins smugly at Jasper. "First rule of etiquette, Unstet—my master always gets first go at the immunity idol." He hollers over his shoulder, "Master ,CATCH!"

He hears a dull thud and a whimper and turns to see Integra lying on the ground.

Alucard shoves the rabbit into Jasper's arms. "MASTER!" He runs up to his downed leader, all the way crying over and over again. "MASTER! MASTER! PLEASE DON'T BE DEAD!"

Seeing Alucard reduced to this state is pitiful. In an odd way, Alucard working himself into hysterics over his master resembles a great deal of some of Edward Cullen's more pathetic moments. Jasper hates Alucard, but he doesn't hate him enough to want to see this sad display.

Alucard suddenly jumps directly in front of Jasper, crowing in triumph. But it's false triumph. "Look, Unstet, my master has the idol of immunity!" Indeed, even unconscious, Integra still grasps the idol.

Jasper is impressed by the Hellsing's will and good reflexes, but it's too bad they didn't kick in a little earlier, for she now has a large, circular imprint on her forehead from where the idol hit her. When she wakes up, the bruises are going to hurt like a bastard. And her glasses are a write off.

Alucard suddenly snarls with anger—anger at his outburst of emotion over his master, anger at his own foolishness for injuring his master, and anger at his master being reduced to running errands for the Nazi scum. "Jasper, do you have medical training?"

Jasper is shocked; Alucard has never used his name before. "Edward went to medical school twice, and he taught me all he knew."

Alucard is blunt. "When we get back to the beach, tend to my master. If you cause her harm, Alice will be the first to die."

Jasper has had enough of Alucard's arrogance and emotional instability. He's not fit to lead men into battle. "You threaten Alice in any way and your master dies."

Alucard's eyes blaze with fury. He's a born aristocrat, and disobedience is the greatest insult to him. His voice becomes a deadly whisper. "You dare? You dare to threaten my Countess?"

Jasper puts his foot down. "I offer to help you if you help me, but I will not stand for anymore of your bullying or your threats."

This raises Alucard's hackles even more. This worthless worm demands that he bow down before him! Alucard hasn't felt anger like this in centuries. For ages, people everywhere have indulged his desires and sycophantically agreed with his every brooding proclamation and temper tantrum. These centuries of having his ass kissed have left Alucard poorly prepared to deal with somebody who tells it straight.

Things take a sudden turn for the worse when strange purple symbols press themselves all over the surrounding environment and cover up Alucard like a cocoon. Alucard blinks; his master is no longer in his arms. He is still in the clearing, but there is no sign of the rabbit or Jasper.

. . . . .

Jasper blinks. There is no longer any sign of Alucard or his master. The rabbit he held within his arms is now gone as well. He surveys the surrounding environment. He's still outside the rabbit's lair, but he's utterly alone.

All of a sudden, a high voice like that of a song bird shakes him to his core. Alice is running towards him and calling his name. All of his training, all of his discipline melt like butter.

. . . . .

Alucard spins around. Where is his master? Thank goodness—she's standing right in front of him. He internally winces at the giant imprint on her face, but he's pretty sure there's a cold pack back at the camp.

Integra snaps at him with her usual curtness. "A fine servant you are; the Unstet scum has escaped with the idol. Go after him!"

Alucard remains rooted to the spot. He's tempted to actually go after Jasper except…

"Master, stand still."

Integra shouts at him. "Are you daft?"

Any further retort she could have made is cut off when Alucard gets the carving knife and slashes her throat to the bone. She gurgles as huge volumes of blood pour out of her body and all over Alucard.

He grins, and her spraying blood turns his ivory teeth an eerie off-pink.

. . . . .

Jasper takes off like a rocket and hugs Alice tighter than he's ever hugged her before. The sound of them colliding is like a rockslide heard through rock concert speakers.

As usual, words fail Jasper. Thankfully, his wife picks up the slack. "I missed you," she chirps and nuzzles his neck.

. . . . .

Integra trips backwards, blood pouring from her. Betrayal and hurt are in her eyes, but Alucard just grins.

"It's a very convincing illusion you've put together. I nearly fell for it."

"Integra" is struggling. She's much weaker now, and not so much blood is leaking out.

Alucard straddles the impostor. "The problem is that you have no idea about human physiology. What human could possibly take a hit like that and ignore it? I know human limits too well. It seems you have forgotten that."

The imposter Integra dissolves into a mass of purple symbols.

Alucard grabs the Albanian gun and cocks it. "And let's not forget the whole purple thing. As if I wouldn't notice that."

. . . . .

Jasper fears that if he lets go of Alice, Millennium will get her again. The words are so hard to choose. "How did you escape?"

Alice seems to shiver in his arms as if she's cold. He feels her fear and apprehension. Strangely enough, the emotions seem muted somehow. It must be because they are masked by love. He's been hanging around Alucard for so long, a source of hate, that he needs to get reacquainted with other emotions. Holding Alice feels like a dream, like it's not real. When Alucard jumps from nowhere and slices Alice in half, it feels like a nightmare.

With his giant knife, Alucard chops Alice at the waist. She screams in agony and clutches Jasper so hard that it hurts. Alucard looks at Jasper's face. He finds the other man's suffering to be funny. He easily yanks off the illusion Alice and throws her to the ground.

Jasper is infuriated, but some things don't add up. Alice is gushing blood. Unstet don't bleed because they have no blood. This isn't Alice. He watches as Alucard slashes at the background behind him as if he were eviscerating a stage facade. Purple symbols issue forth from the slashes in the air, and the entire illusion falls apart.

They're standing in the depression outside the rabbit's lair, and Integra lies unconscious and unharmed except for the giant circular mark on her face. Her broken glasses hang off her ears.

A tall, muscular figure, a Nazi soldier of some rank, with close cropped blond hair stands just in front of Integra. It may or may not be a woman. There are small breasts but those could be from steroid use. The soldier holds a giant scythe of ludicrous proportions and most bizarre of all, her/his entire right side is covered with strange grey tattoos that seem to change depending on the angle.

The soldier speaks. "_Guten Morgen_, boys. My name is Zorin Blitz. Any last vords before I kill you?"

Alucard laughs. "Thank goodness you're here. I would like a well done piece of _schwienfleisch_ and a bottle of lager. Do you want something, Jasper."

Zorin Blitz shows anger at Alucard's statement but keeps some measure of control. "There ist nothing for you to laugh at, _Hellsing Hund_. Ve haff your master. Ve are in charge!"

Alucard examines his knife and happily spins his Albanian gun on his finger. "The thing about Nazis is that they're all like toads. They look impressive to an outsider, but they're really all a bunch of puffed up toads. All the real men live in Russia."

Zorin grunts and pops a cig into her mouth. "Ve are mightier than the whole Russian army!"

Alucard decides it's time to end this farce. He cuts off Zorin's retort. "Are you threatening my master?"

"Don't play stupid, count. Your master's life ist ours, ve—

"I said, are you threatening my master?" He holds his knife as delicately as a flower. It's just as beautiful as one to him.

Zorin glowers. "_Ja_, _wir sind bedrohen ihr Meister_."

Alucard gives Zorin an easy smile. "That's all I wanted to know." He shadow shifts behind Zorin and snatches his master off the ground. His massive jacket opens up like the wings of a giant bat to fly her to a high tree branch. He settles her there and assures her, "I'll be right back."

He returns to the ground and takes off his jacket and charcoal suit and rips his shirt off, exposing his manly build. He's got the lean build of a prisoner. Though he is thin, every muscle practically bulges out of the skin. And every inch of it is covered by a thick layer of black, curly hair. Half concealed by the lush body hair is a black tattoo of Genghis Khan. If Genghis were here, he'd probably calmly sip his tea and order Alucard to begin the unholy slaughter.

Throwing off his hat, Alucard flexes his muscles in a sinewy display of brawn. With his abundant head and body hair and his sharp teeth, Alucard looks more like a beast than a man. He whispers to himself, "Let's have some fun."

Zorin throws her hand down to the ground; an eye in the center of it glows a nauseating violet hue. From out of the center of her palm, purple and grey symbols spread out. The symbols clump together in three dimensional shapes and start to grow. Soon, a giant humanoid takes shape. It fleshes itself out as a gargantuan doppelganger of Zorin Blitz.

Jasper's jaw drops at this phenomenal sight while Alucard merely gets to the butchering. It's just an illusion, but he won't tell that to Jasper. The giant Zorin raises her scythe...and suddenly a horde of rotting hands grab onto her legs. The doppelganger falls apart.

That's when Jasper feels the rage—terrible, all consuming rage. He's feeling so much rage that it hurts him. If Alucard gets even a whiff of this stuff it's all over for everyone, so Jasper decides to take it into himself and not contaminate everyone around him.

Creatures erupt out of the ground. They physically resemble ghouls in every way except that these creatures sport eyes with noticeably hemorrhaged vessels. The effect is that it turns their sclera a dirty red. They are rage ghouls, and they waste no time in attacking tooth and claw, revealing another difference from garden variety ghouls. Normal ghouls are slow, but these things could compete for a gold medal at the Olympics and win. Alucard fires at them, but they appear impervious to his bullets. He stabs them with his baptized arrows, but they have no effect.

Jasper runs through the rage ghouls like a headless chicken, utterly controlled by their aggression. Zorin desperately cuts down the creatures with her giant scythe, but they keep coming. The rabbit has been hidden underneath Alucard's jacket, still under his hypnotic spell, but now it shoots into the open, snarling and chomping away at the ghouls. It doesn't do any crippling damage, but it proves to be a pretty good distraction.

Integra wakes up high in the treetops. Her face hurts like a bitch and parts of her immediate memory are a little foggy. A few stray rage ghouls climb the tree with alarming speed, and Integra curses. She's still clutching the idol. She hates the thought of throwing away immunity, but the thought of dying is even worse, so she uses the only weapon she has and aims the idol in such a way that she hopes will knock both of them off the tree.

She nails the closest on the noggin and knocks it back, but it still clings to bark. An angry twist of its head sends the idol careening to the ground. The ghouls continue toward Integra, and now they're really pissed. The lady knight curls her lip and readies herself for hand-to-hand combat, yet somehow the ghouls don't seem to be getting any closer. They're moving as if they are still climbing, but they make no progress.

The figures of the ghouls seem to become less solid; Integra can see through them. They continue to fade until they are nothing more than a murky vapor that slides rapidly down the trunk. Before they hit the ground they are pulled by an unseen force to the nearby idol. And then the vapor, which had only moments ago been savage ghouls, is sucked into the heart of the idol and disappears.

Integra watched the whole thing with wide eyes, and now she sees that similar clouds of the grayish vapor are being pulled into the idol from all around the clearing. The idol has consumed every last one of the rage ghouls.

On the ground, Alucard, Jasper, the rabbit, and Zorin gawk at the heroic idol. They'd been embroiled in battle seconds ago, and then suddenly…nothing. Even Alucard couldn't have predicted that. The rabbit folds one ear down and cocks its head with curiousest and cutest of expressions. Aww.

But it's only seconds before the three two-legged creatures on the ground recollect that there's more fighting to do. Jasper launches himself at Zorin, who defends herself with her scythe, but he strikes the flat of the blade and shatters it. Jasper twists her arm around to drive the broken edge of her scythe blade into her face, but she stops the weapon just short of her eye. But as strong as she is, she's not fuelled by borrowed fury. Jasper retains the rage of the ghouls even after they are gone because he'd been keeping the emotion pent up within himself rather than letting it go. He never lets up his arm. Zorin's strength fails, and Jasper violently drives the piece of metal through her mouth.

She shrieks horribly and tries to crawl away to give herself time to regenerate, but Jasper flips her over and greets her with his snarling visage. His eyes are as black as tar. The last thing Zorin sees is Jasper's sole as he slams his foot into her face. He raises his leg and smashes her face again and again like a demented piston until it's nothing but a bloody stain on the ground.

Alucard had stood back and watched the whole thing. It was rather fun to watch the Unstet go all batshit crazy on the butch bitch. He stares down Jasper with something close to respect in his eyes. "I've got to hand it to you, you went off the wagon. Thankfully you kept your filthy power to yourself."

Jasper gets marginally happier at that statement. Yeah, he did show some restraint with his power. More than some restraint, he performed a miracle. His parents will be so proud of him when they get freed. If they get freed.

Before the two can get any more chummy, Integra calls to them. "GET ME OUT OF THIS BLOODY TREE!"

Alucard grabs the idol and looks up to his master.

"For the love of God and the queen, do _not_ throw that at me again." Integra gauges the distance to the ground. Then she leaps to a lower branch, grasping it with her hands, and swings back and forth a couple of times for momentum before hurling her body into an airborne flip and landing stealthily on her feet in front of Alucard. "You may hand it to me like a civilized vampire."

"Show off," Alucard teases and hands the idol over.

Integra grasps it in both hands and feels a chilly shudder ripple through her when she considers what the sinister sculpture holds. But she shakes it off and stalks past the two vampires toward the beach. As she walks, she calls over her shoulder, "And Alucard, get your shirt back on!"

.

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**Author's note:**

If you want to see undiluted Master of the Boot, you've got to check out _Survivor: Vampire Island The Director's Cut_ on his profile (and in my favorites). It includes deleted scenes as well as brand new bonus material. It's some good, powerful stuff.

Voting is now open! You can vote for the Survivor you want to send off the island in the poll at the top of my profile. Integra has won immunity, so your choices are either Alucard or Jasper. Gee, wonder who it's going to be... Let's see, I'll keep this one open until May 20.


	18. in which I indulge my guilty pleasure

Chapter 18

The chapter in which I indulge in my guilty pleasure

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This chapter is co-written with…Metropolis Kid (surprise! :D)

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"Vell, vell, vell," the Major gloats. "I think novone is surprised that Herr Vitlock is the next go vith two out of three votes." He cocks a challenging eyebrow over the shining rim of his round glasses, clearly waiting for Jasper to pitch some sort of fit.

"I'm not going to fight you," Jasper announces steadily, and Alucard's shoulders slump nearly imperceptibly. After that maniacal skull crushing the poser'd just given to Blitz, Alucard had high hopes that all the shit he'd put sparkle-boy through had caused the last screw to finally pop. But no, he's snapped right back to his kind's passive, pussylike ways.

Likewise, the Major pouts. He'd been looking forward to an explosive scene. But he can see that Jasper will acquiesce to anything that will get him off the island and reunited with Alice for real. Perhaps that little illusion was a mistake; it's killed the boy's entertainment value.

"Fine then. You vill stay vith us for the viewing of some of our other dear friends." He has to make Jasper suffer _somehow_ before leaving the island.

Jasper's jaw clenches. He's impatient to be with his family…plus, he's never been a big fan of reality TV.

The Major fades away and is replaced by the image of four long-stem roses lying on a tray. The camera pans out from the crimson blooms to reveal Chris Harrison, host of The Bachelor. "Ladies," he says in greeting with a polite tilt of his head. "The bachelor will be here momentarily. As you see, we have only four roses tonight, which means one of you will be going, eh, _away_."

Camera two reveals five striking females standing across from the dapper host. It's a nice assortment—two blondes, two brunettes, and a redhead, er, strawberry blonde. The one similarity between them is the concerned expression they each wear.

"Are you ready to meet your bachelor?" Harrison asks, his smoothness completely recovered after his little stumble. He's done this hundreds of times, and he's going to treat this rose ceremony just like any other. Why should it matter to him that, rather than love, these contestants are playing for their lives?

Typically at this point, the line of girls would giggle nervously and stick their lopsided silicon chests out a little more, but these five merely stare defiantly at their host, and the one in priest's robes holds her hands to her sides and rubs her fingers together as if wishing for weapons. Wait—priests robes? Okay, make that four females and one of questionable gender.

Chris Harrison turns to the side and calls out, "Alexander, we're ready for you."

Through the open archway steps a massive man. He has short, spiky blond hair with darker stubble across his chiseled jaw. He's every inch as tall as Alucard, but his broad shoulders make him look much taller, definitely much stronger from a pure brawn perspective. The candlelight throughout the room reflect off his round spectacles, and his white teeth gnash together in a threatening sneer.

"P-Palladin?" stammers the one with choppy layers of blond hair, the one in the priest's robes.

Next to her, him, whatever, the contestant with a long, black bouffant trails her clawlike fingernails down the edge of her wide, _very_ wide, V-neck and eyes the bachelor. "Bless me, father, for I'm about to sin…" she growls suggestively.

The strawberry blonde next to her has also relaxed her defensive posture now that such beefy testosterone has entered the room. She sucks in her plump bottom lip and bites down on it ever so enticingly while dropping her lush eyelashes in a demure fashion and casting a burning glare from underneath onto Anderson with a look that is anything but shy. She's done this before; her forte is warming up men in the most frigid of climates.

Only the two at the opposite end—the preppy with flowing blond hair and the tall, slender Emo with a sculpted, ebony butch cut—continue to scowl. They're not going to lose focus on what they're here for. Although, considering that the objective is to get the man to keep them around, they might want to consider lightening up a bit.

Meanwhile, Anderson seems to be struggling to tear his bespectacled eyes away from the abounding, bared cleavage of the bouffanted one.

"So, what do you think of these lovely ladies, Alexander?" Chris Harrison asks.

With effort, the newest bachelor turns his head entirely away from the voluptuous mammaries and looks at Chris. "I would sooner live with a lion and a dragon than ter live with an evil wife,"* he answers righteously in his Scottish brogue.

Harrison raises an eyebrow. Yep, every season has a new loop to throw him.

Anderson isn't finished. "All malice is insignificant compared ter the malice of a woman; may the fate of sinners fall upon her."* With that declaration, the zealotinous priest appears fortified and turns to stare down the devil's milk jugs.

The possessor of said jugs decides to use the attention in her favor. She jerks her chin toward the thick cross slung around Anderson's neck. "You know what they say about guys with big crosses…" She winks a false eyelash and runs her tongue languorously across her painted upper lip.

Anderson raises his eyes to hers and then casts them disparagingly over all of the others as he recites ominously, "From a woman came the beginning of sin, and because of her we all die."*

"You sure none of your nicknames are 'Buzzkill Anderson'?" Harrison tries to joke, but Anderson is having none of it; he continues to glare at the women. The host clears his throat and gets down to business. "Well, you know the rules. Four roses, five ladies. You choose the four you'd like to get to know better."

A menacing rumble issues forth from Anderson's throat. It doesn't appear he'd like to get to know any of them better. "And the fifth?" he asks.

"The fifth…" Harrison's voice trails off as he inadvertently flicks a glace at the ladies. "The fifth becomes property of Millenium."

Anderson's wide mouth stretches into a smile, and he gives a satisfied grunt. Passing judgment, now _that's_ more his style. His eyes again rove over the five contestants, but this time with more zeal. His big hands reach down and he fingers a thorny stem.

The adrenaline among the females…and the shemale… practically sets off sparks in the air surrounding them. It's do or die. Literally.

"I fight vampires too!" the petite preppy blurts. "I _slay_ them," she adds with importance as she nods with wide, confident eyes and presses her perfect, pink lips together, certain that the Palladin can't overlook this symmetry between them.

"Phht," Chesty McChesterton scoffs. "Puhlease, I'd like to see you try to slay me, tadpole."

"Like I'd waste my time. I only bother with vampires that have enough vitality to fight back, _grandma_."

"Why you little…" The womanly vamp in black takes a step towards her, but the transsexual steps out between the two women with her…his—oh whatever!—arms thrown up in a deliberate martial arts attack position.

He/she looks sideways at Anderson and says, "Think what you will about me, but you know I've always been there, fighting right beside you when you've needed me. That you cannot deny."

Anderson returns the steady stare and responds, "Fine. Have yer rose."

The priest(-ess?) steps over and triumphantly grasps a rose from the tray, then goes to stand just behind Anderson.

The reluctant bachelor scans the remaining contestants. Three of them are clearly vampires. "You," he commands the other blonde, the only remaining non-vampire, "claim yer prize."

She jumps up and down, clapping her hands and exclaims, "Yes!" before skipping over to scoop up a red flower. The three contestants she leaves behind are offensive to Anderson on two counts: #1 they are vampires; #2 they are women. By the grave way he observes them, its doubtful he'll be able to bring himself to offer even one of these vermin a rose, much less two of them.

The dark-haired slut sees that she needs to change her flirtatious tactics, and seems to be mentally going over her options, but the red-tinted trollop doesn't know how to do anything else, so she tries to pout even bigger and pull the hem of her skirt up higher to improve her position. Meanwhile, the tall skinny one who looks like she just stepped out of a Robert Palmer video stares straight forward and seems to be completely immersed in the words she murmurs over and over again: "O loving and kind God, have mercy. Have pity upon me and take away the awful stain of my transgression. Oh, wash me, cleanse me from this guilt. Let me be pure again."**

Her words are not lost on Anderson, and he can't mask his appreciation of her rote knowledge of scripture. His eyes open a little wider, as if to see her better, as if to truly look at her for the first time. "Filly," his voice booms out, jarring her from her recitation. "Get yer undeserving, repentant arse over here and take a rose."

She's not gonna argue with that. She struts over and takes a rose, glancing back at the remaining vamps with just a hint of smugness.

The busty brunette is quick to whisper, "You can save me, father. I am lost and you can show me the way." She's brought her hands up to cover her offending cleavage and clasps her fingers together, half in prayer, half in pleading.

The succubus wannabe next to her looks confused at first and then sniffs derisively. She puts her hand on her hip and thrusts it out. "Oh, I know where _every_thing is, big daddy, and I'll be happy to give you a hands-on tour."

Anderson's lip curls in revulsion, and this his eyes flick over to focus pointedly on the pleading vampiress next to her. "You are truly sorry for yer sins?" he asks her.

"Yes, father," she breathes remorsefully.

"And yer willin' to accept yer just punishment?"

"Yes, father," she answers, quivering.

"Then come take yer rose, and I'll assign yer penance."

"Thank you, father," she says graciously, nearly knocking over the crestfallen contestant next to her with the swing of her curvaceous hip. She sashays over and swoops up her rose and gives the Palladin an unexpected kiss on the cheek. Before stepping away she whispers none-too-quietly in his ear, "You gonna give me my spankings right here, or will we do that in private?"

At that the screen cuts to fuzz and the Major reappears. "Did you enjoy the show, Herr Vitlock?"

"You are a sick, disgusting man," Jasper seethes.

The Major sighs as if disappointed in the impotency of the reaction, then shrugs his shoulders and presses a button in front of him. The next thing Alcuard and Integra know, the final Cullen has been sucked into the sand and is gone.

"Final two," the Major says. "Congratulations. You vill haff tventy-four hours to rest, und then the game resumes." And with a *pop* the Major vanishes from the screen, leaving master and servant completely alone for the first time in a very long while.

Alucard looks over at his sleep-deprived master. Her naturally tawny complexion has become a touch sallow, and she's got dark, weary circles under her eyes. In this state, it's not difficult for Alucard to picture her as a creature of the night. The idea at once terrifies and tantalizes him. Warm tingles spread through him when he feels the tendrils of her consciousness reaching out to his.

'_I can't believe they didn't even ask for the idol,' _she mentally communicates to holds the statue tightly, yet cautiously, to her. '_Do you think it's possible they don't know what it is? The power it holds?'_

'_It's entirely possible,'_ he answers. '_There's also the possibility that they know exactly what it is, and that's why they want to keep it with us. Just because we hold the idol doesn't mean we know anything about how to control it.'_

'_So we don't want it near us, but we don't want them to get a hold of it either. So what do we do?' _Integra ponders the question herself; she's certainly not asking her servant to tell her what to do.

Yet, Alucard reaches out and strokes his long fingers down the side of the idol, wrapping it in his grip. '_Do you trust me, my master?'_

Integra hesitates. Before coming to Vampire Island, her response would have been immediate, but with the behavior he's been exhibiting lately…

'_Yes, Alucard, I trust you,'_ she finally answers.

He raises half his mouth in a smirk and swiftly yanks the idol away from her and hurls it far out into the ocean. He would've loved to have blasted it into a million pieces, but didn't want to risk setting free what was inside. This way it will sink helplessly to the bottom of the ocean, trapping its demons inside of it forever…or at least until he can find a way to get his master off this cursed island.

Integra watches the idol sink, seeming satisfied with the solution, and Alucard feels her retreat from their mental connection.

"Let's head back to the house, then" she says aloud. The house will offer them a comfortable area to regain their strength as well as a place to plan how to best the pudgy Major.

As they head off the beach, something moves inside Alucard's long, red jacket, but he's preoccupied with wondering whether his master, in her desire to rejuvenate, will finally make use of one of those back rub coupons he gave her on her last birthday, and doesn't pay his jacket any mind. He doesn't react when one by one his cache of weapons drops noiselessly onto the sand behind him either.

.

. . . . .

.

They walk the rest of the way in silence; they'll "talk" again once they're settled at the house. However, upon reaching their destination, the two discover that they are not the only ones who've decided to make use of what the Cullens have built. In a chair on the front deck a man in a red and black body suit lounges as he sips a colorful drink through his straw. His eyes, partially obscured by both a mask and a straw hat with a low hanging trim, stare out at the rolling waves.

'_What the… who's that?'_ Integra wonders a little too loudly.

'_I have no idea, Master,'_ Alucard answers, the mental connection once again open.

_Could it be one of the Major's men?_

Alucard scrutinizes the individual before them for a moment, examining the stranger's aura with his vampiric senses as his eyes watch for any physical cues to the man's intensions. _'I don't believe so. I sense neither malice nor hostile intent from him, and no more greed than what is common amongst most men. His Superego seems stunted to an extent, so most of his actions are probably driven by his Id, which would make him difficult for the Major to control.'_

'_Ids? Superegos? Where did you ever pick up such terms?'_

'_I do read, Master,'_ Alucard replies stoically, though the emotion that slips through with that neutral reply takes Integra a bit by surprise. Has she… has she hurt his feelings?

'_I never said you didn't. It's just… Well, lately you've…'_

'_The sparkly ones are gone now; I no longer have need for such behavior.'_

'_So… it was all an act?'_

'_As your bard once wrote: I am but mad when the wind blows north by north west. When it blows southernly I can tell a hawk from a hacksaw.'_

He'd gone from mercilessly maiming anyone in his path to introspectively quoting Shakespeare; life with Alucard is certainly never boring. He'd paraphrased the quote, but Integra gets his meaning all the same. It wasn't an act, at least not completely. Nor is he mad. He'd simply been driven to madness by outside circumstances.

The lady knight nods her head in understanding. Then she redirects the conversation back to its original subject. _'So this man is not one of the Major's agents?'_

'_In over fifty years, I can't remember ever seeing a member of Millennium drinking a Mia Tai as he gazed peacefully out to sea. They simply aren't the type for such things,' _Alucard answers_. 'Even still, I should probably eviscerate him, just to be safe.'_

The stranger's trained ears catch the sound of footsteps on the warm sand behind him. He raises his straw covered head in recognition and then—just as Integra opens her mouth to ask him who he is, what he's doing, and how he got here—there's a crackle in the air, and the man vanishes. Integra's brow furls, but before she can react any further, the man reappears between her and Alucard. The mystery man hardly looks relaxed anymore; he holds two katans firmly in his grasp, the tip of one lightly grazing the skin of the lady knight's neck as the other does the same to her vampiric servant.

"What are you doing on _my_ island?" the stranger rasps in American accented English and a voice so gravelly that Integra questions just how many cigars the man must've smoked to cause such drastic damage to his larynx.

"Your Island?" Alucard questions, his own voice rumbling in response. "Little man, I don't know who you are, but I suggest you remove that blade from my master's throat before I use it to turn you into a rod puppet!"

"Your master?" the stranger questions as he leans in a little further and stares hard at the lady knight. "Wait, I know you; you're Sir Integra!" he exclaims. "Though I never did get the 'sir' part," he then adds rhetorically as he raises his swords and sheathes them behind his back. "Sorry, didn't recognize you under all that grime and dirt."

"You know me?" Integra asks.

"Yeah, I'm a big time fan of Hirano's works."

"Hirano?"

The stranger just sighs. "Never mind; you wouldn't believe me anyway. So, what brings you two to my island?"

"This is the second time you've called it _your_ island," Integra points out. "Do you own this place?"

"What? No. If I owned it there'd be rides… and a fun house… and cotton candy… and a trip mine vending machine! I'm just vacationing here. I was told the island was deserted, and I figured this would be a perfect place to get away from it all after my last vacation was so ruuuudely interrupted by those tight-wearing bozos and psychic nanites."

"Well, I'm afraid this place isn't as deserted as you were led to believe," Integra replies. "In addition to the two of us, there's a whole army of Nazis and their freakish experiments."

"What?" the stranger exclaims. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted that kid and his lion friend! First the devs over at Activision ruin the Cherry Blossom Festival on me, and now this?" The man tilts his head up towards the sky and shakes his fist. "You better hope we never meet in a dark alleyway, you deceitful, manipulative, double-dealing…"

"Mister," Integra interjects only to discover that she has no idea what the stranger's name is. "Mister…?"

"My friends call me Deadpool," the new player answers.

"And your enemies?" Alucard questions.

"Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third," Deadpool replies quickly. "Needless to say, they seldom call me that more than once."

"Wait a minute, how did you get here?" Integra asks, wondering if this Deadpool fellow might have a boat… one that actually contains more than a handful of gas.

"I parachuted in from a cargo plane traveling at an altitude of fifteen thousand feet. It's the only way to fly."

Integra rolls her eyes at the corny joke, and realizes that this man is not going to be any help in reaching the mainland. Still, perhaps he can be useful for something else. He is well armed, after all. "Deadpool," the lady knight begins, the odd call sign falling a bit awkwardly from a mouth more use to proper names and titles, "What exactly is it that you do for a living?"

"Whatever the job calls for… and the client is willing to pay for."

"So you're a mercenary."

"No, that's not it at all," the man replies, and then pauses for a good half minute. "I'm a mercenary," he then continues in a correcting tone.

Integra's face scrunches up for a moment, but then she shakes her head slightly. This man is obviously delusional, and over the years the lady knight has learned to not try to inject logic into conversations with the deranged. "Ah, of course. So, if I told you that the leader of these Nazis has a million in American dollars stashed somewhere and that, if you help us defeat him, you can have a share of that money when we find it…"

"I'm on vacation," Deadpool interrupts. "I'm not taking on clients." He then stops and seems to consider something. "Even still, I suppose that I'm not going to get much relaxation as long as you and Millennium are duking it out in my backyard. So, I guess I could help ya' out if it gets you off my island and out of my hair."

The edge of Integra's mouth curls upwards in a small grin. Her numbers have just increased by fifty percent, and perhaps this new member of her team has a trick or two up his sleeve that the major doesn't know about. For the first time since coming to this island, she may just be a step ahead of her enemies.

Alucard seems to notice this slight change in the lady knight's facial expression. 'Master, how do you honestly think this costumed lunatic is going to help us?' he mentally objects

"Come inside the house," she responds crisply as she casts a look toward the tree line and silently adds to Alucard only, '_away from prying eyes._'

"Awesome!" Deadpool exclaims. "I'll make Piña Coladas!"

Upon entering the house it becomes apparent that the American merc is not quite as recent an addition to the island as Integra first suspected. In addition to the fully stocked bar where the red and black clad man currently mixes drinks, there's a twenty inch TV/DVD combo in the living room, as well as a mini-fridge with several loaves of bread piled on top. Both the fridge and TV combo are hooked up to what, from the look of it, Integra assumes to be some kind of compact solar generator. A bunch of movies lay scattered in front of the entertainment device.

Upon closer examination, the lady knight notices that her original assessment was not completely accurate. Not all of the scattered cases belong to DVDs. Several also bear the brand of a certain video game system she's seen advertisements for. Taking another look at the TV, Integra notices a few wires running into the side of it, the ends disappearing into the bamboo cabinet beneath the set, and she realizes that her new ally brought a video game system to the island as well. A few wooden crates—some with parachute string still attached to their tops—piled in the corner answer the question of just how the American managed to smuggle all of this stuff onto the island.

Of course these entertainment observations mean nothing to the disciplined military leader, nothing beyond providing a bit of insight into her newest ally's psyche. The mini-fridge, on the other hand, means a great deal to the woman who's been deprived of virtually all civilized food for months. She rushes over and expectantly opens it up… only to find that the bulk of the food within is hardly what one of her class would call 'civilized'.

The fridge contains mostly cold cuts and condiments, along with a single package of Ballpark Beef Franks, a half gallon of whole milk and several cans of Monster energy drinks. Clearly this Deadpool is accustomed to the eating habits of a young bachelor. Still, beggars can't be choosers, and the food in the fridge is infinitely more appealing than most of what she's seen since coming to the island. So, Integra reaches into the fridge, pulls out a package of roast beef and the horseradish mustard, and for the first time in her life sets about making her own sandwich.

She's surprised to find that she actually feels a sense of pride when her task is accomplished and it comes time to take the first bite. However, just as Integra moves the sandwich to her mouth and her jaw drops in anticipation, there is another crackle in the air, and the fruit of her labors is jerked out of her grasp.

"What do you think you're doing?" Deadpool questions in an obviously unhappy tone. "That's mine. You don't just take someone else's food and make a sandwich out of it without asking. Who do you think you are? Me? Why if you were a guy, I'd stab you in the leg!"

"Give that back," Integra merely growls in response.

"No," Deadpool refuses.

"I'd give it back if I were you," Alucard cuts in from where he's seated on the makeshift couch the sparkly fakers had made before they were voted off the island.

At this the merc pauses and seems to think things over. "Are you threatening me?" he asks.

"No, a threat implies that I'll harm you in some way if you don't do what I want. I assure you that is quite unnecessary. Consider this a warning: human's do strange things when deprived of decent food for extended periods, and my master can 'stab' far deeper and with more precision than I imagine you're capable of."

The merc looks back at the lady knight for a second or two. Her eyes are alight with intense, blue flames, and her jaw is set in a very determined, very deliberate sort of way. And suddenly the merc with a mouth realizes that perhaps he's not the only one in the room craz- uh, 'driven' enough to maim for a roast beef sandwich.

"Fine, here you go," the merc says as he hands the sandwich back over. Integra snatches it and takes a triumphant bite before settling down on the couch beside her pet monster.

"So, Master, what's on your mind?"

"Well, the Major's primary base may be on the mainland, but somehow he's able to affect what goes on here, like pulling people into the sand and controlling vampire squids, right?" Integra replies, her voice somewhat muffled and distorted by the sandwich her hunger demands that she continue eating, even while she explains her thought process.

"True. No one can deny that his reach extends to this island as well."

"Exactly, so here's what I'm thinking: He's controlling these things remotely, so he must have some kind of local receiver and control station to carry all this out. If we can find that and pull the plug…"

"Then we'll render the Major impotent," Alucard coos as his own eyes flash at the thought of going on the offensive.

"Sounds good," Deadpool comments as he walks over with a tray of Piña Coladas. He sits it down on the bamboo coffee table in front of the couch. "But how do we find this control station?"

At this, a lump forms in Alucard's coat, and it begins to bounce around excitedly. Integra raises a single eyebrow; and the American has a confused, uncomfortable tone to his voice as he asks, "Er, you okay?"

"Alucard, just let the bunny out, for crying out loud," Integra instructs as she realizes the cause behind the odd happenings within Alucard's coat.

"Yes, Master," the vampire replies as he reaches within and extracts the vampiric bunny. "Alright, now what do you want?" he asks the small creature, and in reply it sends a few flashs, 'memory pictures', across their link.

"Well?" Integra asks.

"It seems to believe it knows the location of this local control center," Alucard answers.

"Excellent!" the merc with a mouth cuts in, sounding very much as if he just returned from _Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure._ "Then all we need to do is follow the bouncing bunny! It'll be just like one of those disturbing Disney sing-a-longs!"

.

. . . . .

.

The entrance to the underground bunker that the rabbit leads them to is in the shape of a snake's head, with the opening resting between the serpent's two fangs. The ground in front of the entrance is littered with twitching, greenish body parts.

"Yes, I'd say that your bunny has been here before, Alucard," Integra wryly comments as she steps over a still wiggling torso of some previously turned and dismembered ghoul.

The bunny stops at the serpent's mouth and turns back in the direction of the humans and its sire. Alucard could swear he sees its lips pull back into a proud grin as it surveys the destruction and mayhem it has caused. And Alucard, surprisingly, finds himself returning the expression. The vampiric bunny is clearly a pathological, blood-thirsty, homicidal maniac, and the monster that created it feels something akin to parental pride as he moves to the small beast.

The rabbit stares up at him quizzically, and Alucard's eyes dart around to make sure no one else is looking at him and the vampiric creature. Then he quickly pets the bunny's fluffy head. "You did well," he murmurs before scooping it up and once more hiding it within the folds of his oversized coat.

"Hey! Do you think we'll meet Destro?" the merc with a mouth exclaims as the group enters the snake's waiting mouth. "I've always wanted to pull off that metal mask of his and see what he looks like… and no, the live-action movie doesn't count. Just look at what they did to Cobra Commander! No way that thing's canon." The other members of the small group just ignore the ramblings of their companion, though Integra rolls her eyes.

Inside the snake, the path opens up into a large, mostly empty room. There are no conventional lights, but rather the area is illuminated by torches. And in sharp contrast to the olden days lighting, the walls are made out of some kind of shiny metal.

"Ah! Velcome, velcome," an all-too-familiar voice quacks as a fifty-seven inch screen lowers down to greet the small band of invaders. "So, you've found my bunker. Und now you've come to destroy my control center. I vas vondering if you might try something sneaky und underhanded like this. Fortunately, I anticipated this eventuality and set up some amusing games for us to play.

"You see before you an empty chamber leading to a corridor, an entire network uff corridors in fact – vich make up a large, complicated, multi-leveled maze. In the center of this maze rests the control computer for all uff my remote operations on the island. If you can reach this computer und deactivate it, you'll eliminate virtually all control I haff over you.

"But I've not made this easy for you; for within the maze lie a series of deadly and vell hidden traps. Und if you think you can cheat und cutting through my maze of death, you are very much mistaken. The valls are made out of one foot thick Latverian titanium, which in addition to being strong enough to vithstand a direct hit by a fifty megaton nuke, has molecules so tightly packed that it's impossible to teleport, ghost walk, or shadow shift through any of it."

The Major laughs as he claps his hands together and rubs them excitedly. "Now, be good little rats, und run my maze of death!"

"Forget it! We're not playing along with anymore of your games," Integra seethes, angered that she's continuously a step behind her enemy. Here eyes drift over to the lump in Alucard's coat, the lump that led them here.

"Oh? I think you vill. You're not the type to let an opportunity to deal such a crushing blow to your foe pass through your fingers. You'll play along in the hopes that you can find my control center und destroy it."

"If there's a chance of that happening, then why are you trying to convince us to keep going?" Deadpool asks.

The Major jerks his head back as he seems to notice the merc on his monitor for the first time. "And just who are you? You're not supposed to be here," he complains as he picks up and examines a clip board.

"Not in the book, huh? Well then, you can just call me Gopher," the merc with a mouth replies.

The Major continues to stare at his papers for a moment, but then shrugs his shoulders. "Very vell, Gopher, since you're new to all this, I'll explain vhat the other two already know. I don't really care vether I vin or lose. I just enjoy playing the game…und cheating, of course, but that goes vithout saying. So, you se-" the Major continues, but Deadpool interrupts before he can finish.

"Just a minute, Maxy," the merc says as he holds up a finger. "Hey, catboy, whatcha watching?" he asks the small boy sitting in the lower left corner of the screen.

The boy has a portable TV resting on his lap and has been staring at it throughout the Major's conversation. Deadpool didn't think much of the kid at first, but his ears have just picked up a very familiar line: "A deed, once done, cannot be undone, but perhaps it may yet be… mitigated."

"Beast Vars," the catboy replies, his tone indicating surprise that someone has actually – deliberately – started up a conversation with him.

"Beast Wars, huh? It's the one where Dinobot takes on all the Preds by himself, right?"

"Ja!" the boy exclaims happily.

"Oh, that's the best one. Any chance you could pipe it in through this screen? It'd be a whole lot more entertaining than what's on now."

"I'm afraid I don't know how to do that," the catboy replies as his ears fall flat. A second passes and then the small, triangular ears perk up once more. "But…" And with that he and the small television vanish from the corner of the screen and reappear beside Deadpool. Integra stares suspiciously at the recent arrival as she wonders exactly what form of teleportation the cat boy employs to pass through the Major's 'magic metal'.

"Can we please get back to my maze of death?" the Major exclaims, obviously put out by the diversion "I spent a long time designing it for you, und you're not being very gracious guests."

"Oh, excuse us, did we forget to bow and curtsy to our host?" Integra replies sardonically.

"Don't go getting snide vith me. Do you have any idea how much this little island setup cost me? How much time it's taken to plan und pull it all off? You could show a little appreciation for everything I've gone through for the two uff you."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll show my appreciation," Alucard growls. "Show it by devouring your body from the inside out while you beg for the sweet release of death. Then, I'll deny you even that as I consume your black soul and torture you for a literal eternity!"

"Good luck with that," Deadpool chimes in from where he's sitting and watching a cartoon with the catboy. "He's more machine now than man," the merc quotes, "twisted and evil."

"What the… How could you possibly… No, vait, I don't want to know," the Major replies

"Ah, pulling a Schultz, are you? Well, you do sort of look the part," Deadpool says, prompting the Major to raise his hand and massage the bridge of his nose as if trying to sooth a migraine.

"Just… just run the maze like good rats," the German officer says as he flicks the screen off in aggravation. That obstinate, wisecracking American is ruining his carefully constructed fun, and he doesn't like it, no not at all.

.

**Footnotes:**

* Anderson's quotes against women are from Sirach, chapter 25. Catholic Living Bible translation. I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm going to guess that ol' Sirach didn't get laid a whole lot.

** Psalm 51: 1-2 Catholic Living Bible translation.

.

**Author's Note:**

I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had both writing my part _and _watching Metropolis Kid play on Vampire Island. Bet you never saw Deadpool coming, ey? No vote this week, but I have another post-chapter activity for you: Can you guess who each the five lovely Bachelorettes were? If you get at least three of them correct (must give their first names) your vote after the next chapter will count TWICE! And that's the big vote between Alucard and Integra for sole Survivor. :D If you get all five correct…well then, I'll just have to come up with a little something extra for you, won't I? You may leave your guesses in your review, but if you'd rather not have them up for the world to see, then please send them to me via PM. Good luck. ;)

Thank you very much to **Metropolis Kid **for writing so much great stuff for this story that it spilled over into the next chapter! That's right, you'll be treated to more Metro (and just a wee bit of me) in chapter nineteen too. And because he's much more disciplined than I am, you won't even have to wait the customary month+ to get it. Oh, I think I told a bunch of you after the last chapter that there would be two chapters left. However, I believe I've also told you in the past to never listen to me when I try to make such foolhardy assurances. ;P You're in for at least two more chapters after this one, kiddos.

Thanks also to that sweetheart of a Swede, **MyHeartIsBurning** for answering my random Hellsing questions. And thanks to the rest of you for coming back and for your reviews. Y'all are the reason that _I_ keep coming back. Mwah!

-LiLa

P.S. I have an ongoing quest to boost the views on my Three Daves video on You Tube (just passed 1,000, yahoo!), so if you could find it in your heart to go to my profile and click on the link for the You Tube trailer for Three Daves, that would be swell. It's really cute and really short, if that's any incentive. ;)


	19. In which we make our way through a maze

This chapter is co-written with Metropolis Kid.

I would like to thank him for sitting still during the LiLatization of his work and not complaining _too_ much. ;P

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**Chapter 19**

**The chapter in which we make our way through a maze**

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Integra eyes the entrance of the Major's maze of death. "Well, I guess we should get going," she comments, doing her best to hide a smirk at how upset they've managed to make their German 'host'. It's never good to give too much away after all, not even to those working for you… _especially_ not to those working for you.

"You go ahead. I'll catch up when the show's over, Tootsie Pop" Deadpool replies as Dinobot rises up from the ground, clamps his hand down on the surprised Predicon's neck, and holds a gun to his head.

"Sickening spider, your base was betrayed by the stench of your perversions," the cartoon robot hisses while Alucard's dark form looms over the mouthy merc. Dinobot blasts an energy net, freeing the young doe stuck to it.

Alucard looks ready to blast a lot more than a net when he warns with a forced calm, "That is my master you are speaking to. Care to rephrase?"

"Nah, I'm good," the merc with a mouth responds, waving a hand dismissively.

Alucard shoves his hand into his jacket , relishing the chance shut that insolent mouth for good, but Integra stops him with a mental command. '_Leave him be. The man is a wildcard—at best—insane and completely unpredictable. Perhaps we'll have better luck navigating the deadly maze without him._'

She does her best to not show that she resents the merc's refusal to obey her, but the pulsating muscle at the corner of her jaw is a dead giveaway to her servant, no matter how much she controls her thoughts. "Do what you want," she says crisply to Deadpool. "Alucard and I will find our way through the maze without you. Come, Vampire." And with that, the English knight storms her way towards the maze's entrance.

Her vampiric servant pauses for a moment, just long enough to have a final word with those they're leaving behind. "Enjoy yourselves now, maggots. I expect my master will be far less charitable after we succeed in our mission. And if you ever refer to her as something crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside again, I'll pull your insides out of your anus and shove them down your throat. Chew on that," he growls and then turns to follow Integra.

"Sounds good. Toodles," Deadpool calls out absently to the departing pair.

"Ja, have fun," the catboy chirps in agreement, never removing his gaze from the TV screen in front of him.

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. . . . .

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Once within the first winding corridor, Integra turns to Alucard and asks, "Any chance that 'third eye' of yours could give us an advantage here?"

"Why, Master, are you suggesting that _I_ take the lead?" the vampire asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Only because it's the most prudent course," the knight replies.

"Of course, Master," Alucard responds, his voice holding just the slightest trace of a smug edge. Then he stretches out with his mystical powers and the maze before them switches from a first person perspective to an over-the-head, third person one. "Please, Master, follow me," he drawls as he steps in front of her.

The latter lets out a single, dry huff as she reflects that her servant seems to be enjoying the role reversal just a little bit too much. Still, she follows him down the corridor. They reach the end and find that three other corridors branch off from the first. Alucard stops for a second or two, and then continues on down the one to the left. They reach the end of that corridor and are presented with three more choices. The Nosferatu pauses once more before selecting the one in the center, and they follow it to yet another opening.

'_No, dead ends yet,'_ Integra thinks to herself.

'_Master, do you doubt me?'_ Alucard asks.

The lady knight grins._ 'Just checking to see if you're paying attention.'_

'_To you, you mean?'_ Alucard asks, his mental tone somewhat confused.

'_Of course. You should be focusing on finding us the quickest, safest route to the center, not what's going on in my mind,'_ Integra replies.

'_Touché, Master, Touché,'_ Alucard concedes.

Integra seldom wins at these little games of theirs—the immortal does have several centuries more experience than her, after all—so she values each victory.

The pair passes through four more corridors without incident, but in the fourth, Integra hears something and stops. Alucard takes two steps forward before sensing his master's distance. When he turns to question her, she holds up a hand to shush him while she tries to decipher the stifled rumblings of a voice coming from another corridor.

"It's only that idiot, Zohall. So what?" Alcuard comments.

"Zohall?" Integra exclaims with just a bit too much emotion for the vampire's liking. She turns and heads back toward the voice, eventually taking an entirely different tunnel. Alucard reluctantly follows, knowing there will be no talking her out of the pointless chase.

Integra stops when she can make out the words. They are coming from above, from some sort of speaker system.

"Gah! This is killing me. Can't I just take it off for a few minutes? I think it's starting to eat away at a second layer of skin," the voice that is now clearly Zohall's complains.

"You heard the boss. Not yet," replies a different voice; sounds like Probst.

"Yeah, well, 'the boss' seems to be enjoying my torture a little too much, " Zohall says, and Integra's heart thuds in her chest—so they _are_ torturing him. She's got to disable the Major's operations asap.

"Tell me about it," Probst concurs. "But stop being such a lightweight. I'm sure a little itching is nothing compared to me having my eyeball ripped out by that lunatic."

Alucard chuckles lightly before Integra shushes him again.

"It still hurts like a son of a bitch," the TV host continues to whine. "If you ask me, the big cheese is out of his league here. He accounted for all of their powers, but not their psychoses. He was depending on the cross-dresser being able to control Big Red, but you saw what happened the second he was away from her. Complete psycho, and his 'master' has no clue."

Integra sucks in an indignant breath. "_I'm_ the cross-dresser? And what exactly did you do while you were off with Whitlock?" But what she's really wondering is why Probst is confiding all of this to his prisoner, so she listens more intently than ever when Zohall speaks again.

"She knows a lot more than you give her credit for. But I think you're right about the boss. He's lost control of the situation. I mean, who the fuck is this new freak that showed up out of nowhere? And if we push Red one inch too far, none of us are going to make it out of here alive. I don't think he understands that—do you think we should explain it to him?"

"Yeah, right. Like he'd listen to us," Probst answers. "Look, I've been working for him a lot longer than you—trust me; just keep quiet and go with the program."

"You mean like you did when you threw that hissy fit back on the beach?" Zohall chides. "That worked out real well for you, didn't it?"

"Fuck you. When you've been working for him as long as I have, you'll blow one of these days, too."

"Doubtful," Zohall retorts. "Shit this burns! I just want to rip my whole fucking face off! We've got to put an end to the game pronto. This stuff is starting to affect my vision—I'm having hallucinations of blinking lights in my perhipheral."

Probst lets out a dirty laugh, but then suddenly stops. "You dumbass! Those _are_ lights—you flicked on the intercom with your elbow."

"Huh? Oh, fu—"

The speakers go dead, and Integra and Alucard merely stare at each other in silence. Alucard lets his master work through these new revelations on her own. He knows better than to tell her "I told you so" about that ADHD piece of shit Zohall Mercer.

Integra can't hide her shock at Zohall turning traitor. But that's what often happens in torture situations. And he's obviously still being tortured, so what choice does he have but to work for the Major…or pretend to? Oh, look at her making excuses for him! He turned on her. Period. And that makes Zohall Mercer as much of an enemy to her as the Major is.

"Resume the search, Alucard. Let's find the control center and obliterate every last one of those heretical bastards."

"As you wish, my master," Alcuard coos.

They make their way uneventfully down two more corridors, and Alucard is getting thoroughly bored. He senses that they're getting closer, but he was hoping for some entertainment along the way, something better than the Mercer-Probst imbecile hour.

He steps into yet another long, dull corridor and a series of large silver javelins fly out from one of the walls, pinning him to the opposite one. Integra, luckily, hadn't entered the room before the trap went off, and Alucard has little trouble dissolving his flesh to strain through the deadly projectiles. Still, the event serves as an important warning to the pair. Though Alucard's third eye may be able to keep them from running into dead ends, it can't warn them of every trap along the way. They continue on more slowly after this revelation, and Alucard has a new spring in his step.

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. . . . .

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Back at the entrance to the maze the Beast Wars episode is just finishing. "Tell my tale to those who ask it. Tell it truly, the evil deeds along with the good, and let me be judged accordingly. The rest...is silence."

"He lived a warrior, and died a hero. Let his spark join the Matrix, with the greatest of Cybertron."

Deadpool wipes a single tear from the corner of his eye. "Aw, that ending gets me every time. Well, it's been fun, kid," the merc says as he ruffles Schrödinger's hair. "But I've gotta be getting back to helping Teggy and Vladdy defeat your organization's evil plans, yada, yada, yada."

"Oh… well, maybe we can watch more Transformers once this is all over?"

"Sure, kid, sure. Just remember to stay away from black, swirling pools of blood—you'll live longer."

The catboy's head tilts to the side as he watches Deadpool depart.

Deadpool uses eenie-meenie-miney-mo to decide which corridors to take until his nose tingles with a delicious scent. The American's eyes go wide and his mouth waters. "Hmmm, something smells goooood. Guess it's time to do as the bird says - follow my nose!"

The merc's nose leads him though a series of corridors that eventually open up into a holding area where three people appear to be locked behind an energy field. A single man in a Nazi uniform sits at a small table eating chocolate cupcakes.

"I can't believe you made that guy cupcakes," one of the prisoners complains to another. "We're prisoners, not guests!"

"That's no reason to be rude," a woman replies, her voice carrying the tone of a black and white sitcom mother.

"What's rude about _not_ making cupcakes for the people holding you against your will?" the first prisoner retorts.

"Honey," the male prisoner interjects, "I love you, but Rosalie's right. Have you forgotten what they did to us on the mainland? What they're going to do to us once they finish finding all of Bella's pieces and send us back there?"

The conversation is interrupted as the prisoners hear a thud and turn to see that a man in a red and black body suit has knocked out the Nazi guarding them and stolen his tray of cupcakes. "What the… Who are you?"

The man looks up. "Apparently, I'm Gopher, though I'd rather have stripes and bounce around on my tale—seems like it'd be more fun," he replies and then pauses and stares for a moment. "Hey, do I know you? Wait a minute, yes! I recognize you from your posters; you're the Twamps!"

"Excuse me," Rosalie replies, hands on her hips. "Where do you get off calling us tramps?"

"Not tramps, Twamps—Twilight Vamps," Deadpool informs.

"What's Twilight?" Carlisle asks.

"A series of highly overrated, 'vampire' movies and books written by some fat, Mormon chick," Deadpool replies, prompting the 'Twamps' to exchange confused sideways glances.

"And we remind you of these fictional vampires?" Esme asks.

Deadpool laughs in a mildly disturbing fashion. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it." He rolls up his face mask enough to expose his mouth, opens up and shoves a whole cupcake into his waiting maw. "So," he continues, as he chews, the food visibly rolling around in his mouth in a rather repulsive fashion, "I hear you sparkle."

"Uh, yes, that's right," Carlisle replies.

Deadpool smiles. "You know I've never seen a vampire sparkle before," he says, sounding very much like a young child who's found some new, exotic creature in his local zoo.

"I'm afraid we need sunlight for that."

"Oh," the American mercenary replies, disappointment evident in his tone. "Where's a Thirsty when you need one?"

Once again the three caged blood suckers exchange sideway glances. "Ah, yeah, so… how about getting us out of here?" Rosalie eventually suggests.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Rosalie."

"Oh, never heard of you. Is Alice in there?"

Rosalie looks somewhat offended by the fact that this 'Gopher' fellow has apparently heard of Alice and not her. Yet she remains focused on the task at hand—trying to figure out a way to get the very strange man in front of her to let her and the others out of their prison. To that end she decides to tell a little, white lie. "Ah, yeah, right here," the girl replies as she points to the 'mother' who still looks young enough to be her sister…older sister.

"Wha-" Esme begins but is cut off by her daughter.

"Now, Alice, don't be shy. The gentleman—_who can let us out of here_—wants to meet you," Rosalie interrupts through grinding teeth.

Understanding flashes on Esme's face. "Oh, yes, that's me… Alice. Um, pleased to meet you, Mr. Gopher."

Deadpool doesn't reply at first, instead opting to pop another cupcake into his mouth as he stares at the blood sucker. "You're the one who can see the future, right?"

"Uh, yes. That's me… Alice. I get visions sometimes, and…"

"Great!" Deadpool suddenly exclaims, a chunk of masticated chocolate cupcake falling from his mouth. "Then you can tell me who wins the Superbowl!"

"What?" Esme questions in a surprised tone.

Rosalie leans in and starts to whisper in her mother's ear. "Just tell him anything. If you're wrong it doesn't matter. By the time he finds out, we'll already be out of this cage and _far_ away from him."

"You want me to lie?" the mother whispers back.

"You're already lying, _Alice_," Rosalie points out.

"I… I guess," Esme concedes. "But… but I don't even know who's in the Superbowl."

"The playoffs haven't stated yet, Honey," Carlisle whispers, joining in his wife's and daughter's conversation. "You can pick any team you want; it doesn't matter."

"Okay," Esme replies, sounding unsure.

"Well?" Deadpool asks impatiently.

"Um, the Broncos?" Esme answers, fairly certain that she remembers hearing that name associated with football before. She only hopes it was with professional football, not high school or college.

"The Broncos?" Deadpool exclaims unhappily. "I've got fifty bucks on the Jets. Bet they'd go all the way this year at the start of the season. _You_ just cost me fifty bucks, Missy," he accuses. "You can just stay right where you are." The merc with a mouth grabs the remaining cupcakes and storms out of the holding room amidst a mixture of protests, apologies, and swears from the three caged 'Twamps'.

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. . . . .

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Shortly after Deadpool swallows his last remaining cupcake, he turns a corner and finds himself in the same opening as Integra and Alucard. "Oh, hey, guess I finally caught up, huh?"

"Yes, it would appear so," Alucard replies, sounding utterly unenthused.

"Come across anything useful?" Integra asks.

"Just some cupcakes and a Twamp who cost me fifty bucks."

Integra shakes her head. _'Great, now he's hiring prostitutes,'_ she thinks as she longs for the days her followers were comprised of the best of the best of what England had to offer: loyal, dependable, trustworthy men who were committed to the cause and would follow her orders without question.

Alucard resumes his walk through the corridor and Integra and Deadpool fall in step behind the vampire. But no sooner do they enter the next area than all the exits seal up and two of the metal walls begin to close in on them. Alucard reacts immediately, stretching his arms out like Mr. Fantastic to push against the walls, but the mechanism driving them is unusually strong, and he can only slow their advance.

Integra rushes to one of the walls and attempts to help him while the vampiric bunny leaps out of his coat and rushes to the other wall. The creature head butts it at top speed. That, coupled with Alucard's efforts, halt the metal's advance, but only for a split second. The bunny hops to the other wall as quickly as it can and revs up for another charge while Integra tries to shoulder slam her wall.

The whole time Deadpool's been leaning against one of the stationary walls, watching the show. Integra notices this and screams at him, "Why aren't you helping? What's wrong with you?"

"Meh, I've seen this picture before. All we've gotta do is call up the droids on the upper level."

"Wh-What? This isn't a movie! We don't have any droids!"

"Oh," the merc with a mouth replies, sounding as if Integra's statement has truly surprised him. "Then I think we'd better say the magic words before we get turned into jam. It may be tasty on toast, but somehow it's not how I want to spend the rest of my life."

"What 'magic words'?" Integra asks as she strains against the wall. A loud thud sounds as the bunny once more collides with solid metal. Although Sir Hellsing is a knight not a mage, she's had some experience with the arcane, and if her new ally knows an incantation to get them out of this current predicament, she's only too happy to listen to what he has to say.

"Two words… 'Oh no.'," Deadpool replies calmly as he makes like he's checking his fingernails.

"Oh no?" Integra asks.

"Oh no!" Alucard roars. He's had enough of this lunatic's bullshit.

Suddenly, the floor begins to shake and there's a terrible smashing sound, followed by another and another, each one closer than the last. And finally, one of the moving walls bursts open as a roundish, red giant breaks through it and shouts, "Oh Yeaaaaaaah!"

"What... What the…" Integra stutters as she catches sight of their rescuer. Before her stands a walking, talking pitcher of fruit punch carrying a smaller pitcher of the same in its right hand. To say that the lady knight is stunned would be a serious understatement. Even still, she retains enough of her wits to remember the danger of her current situation and heads for the new opening the… 'oddity' has created, the rest of her group following close behind her.

Once through she turns back to the bizarre creature. The English aristocrat knows that etiquette demands she thank the stranger, but she can only manage a dazed sort of, "What are you?"

"I'm the Kool-Aid Man," the newcomer proclaims.

"But… But…" Integra stutters again as her mind attempts to come to terms with what her eyes are seeing. Nothing, _nothing_ she's seen on Vampire Island so far—and she's seen a lot—has been as shocking as this. She finally gives up contemplating the biology that would allow a creature with a head full of punch to form coherent thought and feels herself begin to go faint.

"Thanks, K-Man," Deadpool says as he slaps the giant pitcher of punch cross the back as if such creatures were an everyday occurrence.

" No problem, always happy to help a fellow Marvel man," the Kool-Aid Man replies as he shakes the merc's hand. "But I'm afraid I need to be getting back to my never ending battle against those diabolical Thristys now."

"Yeah, I understand," Deadpool replies as the newcomer turns and begins to head back through the trail of holes he's torn in the Latverian Titanium walls.

Alucard simply watches the scene with a curious expression on his face. This K-Man might be someone worth getting to know better. "Who was that?" he asks Deadpool once the pitcher of punch is on his way.

"That's the Kool-Aid Man," Deadpool replies. "Luckily for us, Marvel landed his contract several years ago."

"Marvel?"

"They're the company that owns my contract."

"So, the two of you… work for the same people?" Integra asks with a furled brow.

"Yeah, and boy is that a good thing. Guy's as strong as the Hulk… and a whole lot easier to summon."

"O-Okay," Integra replies doing her best to accept what her mind tells her is impossible even though she's seen firsthand. "And… and what does _he_ do at Marvel?"

"Mostly he battles the Thirstys."

"The Thirstys?"

"Yeah, they're like small suns that run around making people thirsty and trying to spoil their fun."

"I… You… You're kidding, _right_?"

"No, why?"

"Be-because… I can't even begin to tell you how many laws of nature that… that…" Integra stops as she notices that the American merc is now staring at her as if _she_ were the crazy one. The lady knight sighs, hangs her head and rubs her temples. "I… Let's just keep going."

'_Master,'_ Alucard begins over their connection, _'May be we should call him back. If he's strong enough to break through…'_

'_No, Alucard, we are NOT calling him back.'_

'_But, Master…' _

'_We're not calling him back, AND we're never going to speak of this again. Is that clear?'_

'_Yes, Master,'_ Alucard replies as he stops to pick up his killer bunny and again place it within the folds of his oversized coat before the group continues on.

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. . . . .

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Another ten minutes of winding corridors brings them to a room just off of the very center of the maze. This is it; the prize is nearly within their grasp. Integra and Alucard are both on their toes, for they suspect that the Major has saved something truly deadly for this, the eleventh hour.

When the three first entered the room, it seems as if the lady knight and her vampire have been mistaken. It's just a large, open room with tables, chairs, and bulletin boards. The place looks like an office, a command room placed just outside the control computer. It doesn't appear threatening in the least. But then, appearances can be deceiving.

When the group reaches the halfway mark, turrets drop out of holes in the ceiling and lay down a suppressing fire. Alucard is just barely able to rip a table from where it's bolted to the floor and turn it over into a makeshift barricade before the automatic rounds rip the small party to shreds. Yet their protection will not last forever. The metallic table is already pitted with the impact of the concentrated fire, and sooner or later, the rounds will begin to penetrate.

"We need to take out those turrets!" Integra yells over the gunfire as she turns to Alucard. "What do you have left for weapons?"

Alucard reaches into his jacket and pulls out…the rabbit. He sets it down and begins fishing around again. "This doesn't make any sense," he grunts impatiently and then begins searching the other side.

"Oh, good grief," Integra complains, "Don't tell me you've been pulling random weapons out of your coat ever since that doubles challenge and now that we actually need them you don't have any left?"

Alucard doesn't say a thing, and that tells Integra all she needs to know. Her eyes narrow as she watches him put the rabbit back in his empty coat. She finds it very interesting that the weapons disappeared so soon after little Bunnicula took up residence there. And she hasn't forgotten exactly who it was that led them into this trap in the first place.

"Bloody fantastic!" she bellows in frustration, but then she feels something cold and hard press into her side as the merc to her right shifts in place, and she remembers that he's still armed. She reaches over and grabs the submachine gun from Deadpool's belt.

"Hey!" the merc begins to pretest, but another 'roast beef sandwich' glare makes him reconsider.

The lady knight hands the firearm over to her pet monster then turns back to the merc. "Give me one of those swords," she orders.

"Katans," he corrects.

"Whatever," she replies. Deadpool hands over one of his blades, and Integra continues, "Okay, as I was saying, we've gotta take out those turrets."

"Are you nuts? We poke our heads out there and we're going to come out looking like Swiss cheese," Deadpool objects.

"And if we stay here until those rounds punch through, we're as good as dead anyway. So, I say we go down fighting. Besides, you want to live forever?"

An image of a girl with dark hair, light eyes, and a long robe that cannot wholly conceal the curves of her body flashes into Deadpool's mind. In his memory he's with her once more. Her scent fills him, and he can still taste her lips on his. For an instant, the merc with a mouth is strangely quiet as he stares off distantly, lost in the memory and the heavenly sound of his beloved's voice. Then he snaps back to the present, the here and now, and exclaims, "Oh, Hell, no!"

Integra seems a little taken back by the forcefulness of the merc's reply. But she's succeeded in motivating him, and that's what's important. "Good, so here's the plan…"

Unfortunately, before Integra has a chance to continue, the antsy merc by her side grows too impatient. "All right, let's do this. Leeeeeeroy Jeeeeeenkins!" the man shouts as he blindly throws himself into the hail of gunfire, into the jaws… and embrace of Death.

"Oh crap," Integra comments as she realizes that the insane party member has effectively forced them to launch their attack before they've had a chance to plan it.

"Stay behind me, Master," Alucard instructs as the other two pop out from behind their cover.

Integra's hardly in the habit of taking orders from her servant, but in this one case… Well, it's less of an order and more common sense. So she stays behind her servant as they charge, confident that once they've closed the gap between them and their targets she can deal the enemy just as much damage as he can.

Deadpool's brazen charge has succeeded in drawing the bulk of the enemy's gunfire. His body armor and powers of regeneration allow him to survive the onslaught far longer than would be possible for most humans. He reaches the turrets and cuts two of them down with a swiping slice of his katana and blasts another apart with his remaining SMG. But then the concentrated fire overwhelms him and he falls.

Fortunately, the merc's suicidal charge has allowed Alucard and Integra to get within range of the remaining turrets relatively unscathed. The two now launch into an onslaught of their own, hacking and blasting and even ripping apart the seven remaining turrets. And then all is quite once more.

The two look over at their fallen ally, and Integra asks, "Is he?"

Alucard scans the man's aura and finds… nothing. "Yes, Master, he's dead."

"He died well."

"Yes, he did… the lucky bastard."

Integra moves over to the corpse, her sense of duty compelling her to say a few last words over the man who'd given his life for her cause. "I-I didn't know… Deadpool long," the lady knight begins clumsily, not being accustomed to doing this type of thing personally. But there's no reverend handy today, and so the responsibility falls to her. And Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing has never been one to shirk her responsibilities.

"But from what I saw of him, he was… a unique individual with a… with a real zest for life. And ah…"

Just then there's the sound of a wet cough, and Integra feels something warm strike her bare skin. Looking down, the lady knight notices that a new patch of blood has appeared across her leg. And she notices something else as well: the merc's eyelids are fluttering.

"Man, you really suck at this," the previously deceased individual rasps.

Integra shoots a glare at her servant. "I thought you said he was dead."

"He… was dead," Alucard replies, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Yeah, I tend to die _a lot_… Unfortunately, I never stay dead for very long," the Merc explains as he rolls himself over and rises to his knees… only to collapse once more into a puddle of his own blood. "You two go on," Deadpool gurgles through the side of his mouth. "I'll catch up in a minute or two."

"Yes, ah, of course," Integra replies as she slowly backs away from the reanimating corpse. Can her day possibly get any weirder?

Just beyond the line of destroyed turrets there is a large archway, and, passing through this opening, the lady knight and her servant soon find themselves in a high-tech room with flashing lights and box-like computer servers scattered about the area. "Well this looks like the place," Integra comments.

"Indeed," Alucard agrees. "So, how do you want to handle this?"

"Well, unless one of you two knows the proper shutdown sequence," a freshly healed Deadpool cuts in, "I'd suggest that we just start… 'smashing things to look tough'. Oooooh, it'll be just like Halo! You know… apart from the religious zealots; bossy, know it all chick; and freakish experiments. No, wait – Hellsing! – It'll be exactly like Halo!"

Alucard and Integra cast each other confused glances. Then the vampire shrugs his shoulders, and the lady knight lets out a little sigh. It seems to be her destiny to be surrounded by loonies. "Alright, I guess that's as good an idea as any we're going to come up with. Alucard, start taking these things apart."

"My pleasure, Master," the monster replies with a slight grin. He'd much prefer to be maiming and killing, but even hearing her turn him loose on inanimate, electronic devices is enough to excite him… to some degree. Forgoing the American merc's weapon, which the vampire still possesses, he sets about smashing, mangling, and decimating everything in the room, save his master and their temporary ally. The monster revels in bringing the chaos of destruction to the highly ordered room, and with every machine he smashes and wire he severs, the lights flicker or an alarm sounds. Within but a few minutes the room is nothing more than a loud mess, a ruin of its former self. Then, as Alucard brings his fists down into the metal device in the center of the room, the lights shut down and the place grows eerily quiet.

For the first time in days, Integra relaxes and slowly lets out a deep breath. They've done it. The Major's control has been severed and they're now free to plan a rescue mission and confront the pudgy, little bastard face to face. Or so she thinks.

Her theory is proven incorrect a mere moment later when the lights turn back on and the echoing sound of a single person clapping fills the room. "Congratulations, you ran your maze vell—even managed to find the cheese at the center vithout losing any more… 'rats'," an all-too-familiar voice comments as another flat screen monitor lowers from the ceiling. "However, I'm afraid that I'm not ready to relinquish my control just yet. I'm haffing too much fun watching you perform."

"What? How?" Integra begins, but is soon cut off by the Major.

"Did you really think I vouldn't haff a back up? It's the first rule of computers und police busts—back up."

"You liar!" Integra spits out scornfully.

The Major chuckles. "But of course, Frau Hellsing. Does this really come as such a shock? First I promised the winning team one million dollars. Then I told you all that you won't be getting a penny of it. I told Leon to tell you that the boat would reach the mainland, even though it scarcely had enough gas to cast off. How can you be so surprised that I lied here as vell?" the German asks in what sounds like a genuinely curious tone.

Integra's jaw clenches in anger. "When I find you I'm going to make you pay for this—all of this—I swear!" she growls.

"Count me in too," Deadpool chimes in. "All I really wanted was to get you off my island so I could enjoy the rest of my vacation. But no one—_but no on_—breaks a deal with me and lives to brag about it." The merc turns to glare at the monitor. "You got that, Water Cooled Tubes? I've got an error message for you! I'll scramble your RAM!"

The Major looks puzzled for a moment. He's fairly sure that he's just been insulted and threatened, yet the exact nature of both eludes him. "I'm… I'm sure you'd like to try. But you'd haff to find me first, und I'm afraid that that vill be rather difficult since I'm still very much in control of the island und none of you are ever getting off it unless I allow it."

Integra glares at the monitor, the blue flame in her eyes holding the promises of death and suffering, and Alucard abruptly breaks out in laughter. "That's right. Keep pushing your luck, Little Man. Sooner or later you're going to anger my master enough for her to get tired of these games of yours. And then you'll be in for a world of torture and humiliation the likes of which your limited mind can't possibly fathom."

The Major smiles in response. "Oh, is that so? Well then, perhaps I should just call the whole thing off, let you all go und apologize. Hmm? No, I don't think so. In fact, I think as a punishment for trying to cheat your way out of my game, we'll just forget about the rest of your little break and start the final round of our little game right now. I hope you're all ready… because I certainly am."

.

.

**Author's Note:**

The Vote is OPEN! You may now go to my profile and select who you want to be the Sole Survivor (a/k/a the winner). Will you choose Alucard or Integra? Decisions...decisions...

Three astute readers have earned an extra vote by correctly identifying at least three of the bachelorettes from the last chapter: theInsaneArtist, Master of the Boot, and Metropolis Kid. Here's how it will work for you three - make your first vote on the poll at my profile and then message me with your second vote. I'll add those three votes to the total from the poll and that will decide our winner. The poll will stay open until mid-July.

AND Metropolis Kid got all five bachelorettes right, so he gets a special treat. Which actually turns out to be a treat for me and for all of you too - he's going to write an epilogue to S:VI. :D So, we all win! Thanks Metro K, for that as well as for being an absolute prince to "work" with on these last two chapters.


	20. in which we stick a fork in this thing

Chapter 20

The chapter in which we stick a fork in this thing

.

"This is just bloody great!" Integra shouts as she stares at a pile of rubble in the corridor that had been closing in on them just a little while ago.

Alucard eyes the destruction. "Looks like that oversized bowl of juice did some structural damage."

"Fruit drink," Deadpool states.

"What?" Integra snaps and then curses herself for even bothering to ask.

"K-man's not made of juice. He's a fruit _drink_. Or if you want to be technical about it: citric acid, sorbitol, potassium and sodium bicarbonate, aspartame, contains less than 2% of natural and artificial flavor, ascorbic acid, sucralose, acesulfame potassium, potassium and sodium carbonate, magnesium oxide, soy lecithin, red 40, blue 1, sodium benzoate and BHA." He pauses and looks matter of factly through his facemask at his companions.

Alucard keeps his fiery eyes trained on the merc. "Please, Master, may I kill him?"

"Alucard," she admonishes, "save your energy for clearing a path through this mess."

Alucard goes formless for a moment and then resurrects as a mass of arms and white-gloved hands. His shadowy, appendages slither through the rubble, lifting and pushing, but every time something moves out of the way, more rock and dirt from the cave tumbles down to fill the space. Integra and Deadpool begin to anticipate the landslides and step in to do what they can to hold them back. But even with the monster, the superhero, and the Hellsing knight working together, it takes a solid forty-five minutes to clear a path.

Once through, they get their bearings and begin working their way out of the cave, wary of any remaining booby traps. The Major has instructed them to return to the main beach where he promises they will finish the game...for what the Major's promises are worth. As they uneventfully move along, it feels as if the previously lively cave has gone completely dead, as if the Major pulled a plug on the place the moment he disappeared from the television monitor.

"What do you suppose his motivations are?" Integra asks. "What does he want?"

"He wants to snap and make us jump," Alucard answers as he searches with his mystical sensory power to determine which tunnel to take at the current intersection. "And he wants to see us humiliated."

"Is that really all?" Integra questions, her voice slightly unsteady. "He's already gotten plenty of both, and yet he still presses on; it's never enough for him. And there's no pattern to his actions. It doesn't make sense, and it's impossible to formulate a strategy against him when everything he does is so utterly random!"

Alucard smirks ironically. "You're giving him what he wants right now—the slow but sure deconstruction of a sound mind. He'll keep pushing, stretch us to the end of our tether, see how much we can handle. He wants to watch the final snap of our cerebellum, when we reach our limit and simply don't give a ratt's arse about one more thing. That's what he's after."

"Nah," Deadpool contradicts. "I think he's doing it for the cupcakes."

Integra scoffs. "I highly doubt he's doing all of this for some cheap hookers."

"Hookers?" This time it's the masked merc's turn to be dumbfounded.

"You know, the 'cupcake' that cost you fifty American dollars," Integra explains.

"Oh no," Deadpool shakes his head. "The cupcakes were free; the Twamp cost me fifty bucks."

Integra throws her hands up in the air with an irritated grunt. "Tramps, hookers—what's the difference?"

"Well, there's a lot of difference, little missy. From what I hear, the Cullens are a bunch of goody-goodies. You must be thinking of the fanfictions."

"Fa—" Integra closes her mouth and takes a deep, cleansing breath. Through gritted teeth she says, "Mr. Deadpool, I am going to say this once, and only once, so I suggest you lean in close so you don't miss anything."

He shrugs and leans in close to Integra, much to Alucard's amusement.

"What the bloODY HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, AND WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY DO THE CULLEN'S HAVE TO DO WITH IT?"

Deadpool jerks his head back and rubs his ear through his red nylon head covering. "You really need to work on those anger issues, lady."

Hellsing's leader crosses her arms and stares at him, tapping her foot. He's reminded of the "sandwich incident" and decides there's no reason not to give her what she wants.

"The Cullens, or as I call them, Twamps, were baking cupcakes, and we were having a grand old time until Alice, the one who baked the cupcakes, blew my football pool for me."

His explanation doesn't exactly make things crystal clear, but he does give them something to go on.

"The Cullens were here?" Alucard asks. "In this cave?"

"Yup. Twamps. And that Alice can't gamble for shit, but she sure can bake."

"Alice doesn't bake," Alucard says. "What did she look like?"

"Dark hair, long, a little wide in the hips for my tastes, but she's got a decent rack—"

"That wasn't Alice," Alucard asserts. "Sounds more like Esme."

"She lied to me?"

"Was there anyone else there?" Integra asks.

"Sure. There was the guard, and also someone who called herself Rosalie, rather uppity, and then there was a guy, blond, very attractive, like a Ken doll."

"Of course," Alucard says, "the three from the last challenge. I suppose Bella's still recovering from our little game of catch."

"Wait a minute…if she wasn't Alice then she couldn't see the future and that means the Jets still have a chance! Woo-hoo!"

"Good for you, Mr. Deadpool, now please try to focus. The three, er, Twamps, how did they look? Were their heads on their bodies?" Integra asks.

"Yup."

"So they've been restored, and Esme was baking cupcakes, you say?"

"Yup. For the guard. Said there's no reason to be impolite."

Integra rolls her eyes, "Sounds like her."

Alucard looks thoughtful for a moment and then contradicts her. "No, actually, it doesn't. She's Suzie Homemaker under normal circumstances, but when her cubs are in trouble she's more like an angry grizzly. Her protective instincts overrule everything else and there's not a chance she'd be baking for any factions of the entity that's threatening her pseudo-offspring. Unless, of course, said cupcakes were laced with something deadly to her captors."

"How do you know so much abou— Never mind. I don't want to know," Integra says and then turns to Deadpool. "Did you eat any cupcakes?"

"Yup."

"And the cupcakes never made you in the least bit dead?"

"Nope," Deadpool responds with a somewhat forlorn glint in his eye.

Integra turns back to her vampire. "Are you suggesting that her 'cubs' are not, in fact, in trouble."

"I'm suggesting that she doesn't perceive them to be."

"It doesn't make any sense," Integra groans. "They cut off their heads and stuck them on archery targets; they strung them upside down, they swallowed them all up in the sand, and had their killer squid drag them off into the sea—_how_ could she think they're not being threatened?"

"It's the Major's randomocity at play. Don't try to figure him out; he will only drive you mad. Logic doesn't apply."

"It's true," Deadpool nods in agreement. "Some people are just plain nuts. So, this has been fun, but I'd kinda like to catch me some rays. This is my vacation, after all." He turns and heads down a corridor.

He seems to know where he's going, so Alucard and Integra follow and within a few short minutes, they are outside. It's the same entrance through which they entered.

Integra looks around at the ground, the furrows in her brow deepening. "W-weren't there animal bones all over the place when we entered? What happened to them?"

"Master, calm down. You're working yourself into a paranoid lather and playing right into his hands. For all we know, he fed them to his mongrel guards for a snack."

Integra nods and tries not to think about it, or anything else, on their trek to the beach. They have no idea what's coming next and there's no point in trying to figure it out.

~.~.~.~.~

The one thing they figure they can count on is a large television screen waiting for them at the beach. But as they approach, they see a chubby, blond man in a white suit standing at the edge of the water. He is staring out to sea and stands with his hands clasped behind his back, the picture of calmness.

Alucard leers, but Integra holds up a hand. _It's got to be some sort of trap_, she tells him through their mental connection.

_Yes, I sense others hiding in the forest. _

_ We'll hold our position here._

The Major slowly turns around. He's much pastier in person. "This is no trick. You are free to approach me as you vish. But allow me to varn you, if any harm should fall upon me, my instructions are very clear—the explosiffs planted throughout the island are to be detonated, blowing the entire thing to smithereens.

"What does it matter? You're going to destroy us anyhow, why not go down swinging?" Alucard baits.

"Hold up there, red," Deadpool chimes in. "I've got a lot of money in gaming equipment back there at the cottage. What say you let me get all that to a safe place before we light this island on fire?"

"Ah, but I am providing the 'gaming' for free," the Major quips. "The ultimate game. But I'm afraid that I am very misunderstood. My purpose is not to destroy you. Vy vould I vant to destroy my first in command?"

"First in command?" Integra asks.

_Master_, _what did I tell you about trying to figure it out? Let him keep talking. It's what he does best. I recommend we wait for his minions to make their move and then attack. _

_ Yes, I suppose you're right, _she reluctantly admits.

Just then, a large red bulge forms in the lower regions of Alucard's coat.

"Alucard," the Major drawls, "is that a rabbit in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

A snarling ball of grey fuzz bursts forth from Alucard's coat and flops onto the sand, staring down the Major with its blazing red eyes.

For the first time, the Major lets a flash of fear cross his fleshy features. "Creating offspring vasn't in the game rules," he complains.

"None of this has been in the game rules!" Integra spits. "No more games, no more riddles, no more taunting us! You tell us what you're up to right now or I'll set my monster loose on you and damn the consequences!"

"Ah, Frau Hellsing, you are so adorable when you're angry. How about instead of _telling_ you vat I'm talking about, I _show_ you, eh? Oh minions, come forvard."

In silent grace, five figures glide onto the beach. Instead of issuing the order to attack, Integra gasps. It's Jasper, Alice, Walter, Seras, and Edward. At least it looks like them, but something is very different. No one is sparkling. And they're all green. Their eyes are now muddy brown and sunken, and chunks of their putrid flesh hang impossibly from what had been solid, marble-like skin on three of them. But what's even worse is that they are all wearing Nazi uniforms. And curiously, Seras'—and only Seras'—is cut exactly the same way as her Police Girl uniform.

"While you all haff been haffing fun, I haff been vorking. Recruiting. Und you haff been helping me. First you veeded out the veak."

The Major snaps his fingers and leaves rustle at the edge of the forest, then a grunt sounds and Rosalie appears in khaki green hotpants and a matching tube top with a large Swastika across the front. She's not as decayed as the others, but she has a definite greenish cast to her. A thick rope is slung over her shoulders, which she grips with both hands. Another grunt and another step forward reveal what she's hauling—a titanium cage containing the first four Survivors to have been voted out: Esme, Carlisle, Bella, Bella's head, and Emmett. And no, he's not wearing any clothes. And he still doesn't appear self-conscious about it in the least. Esme, Carlisle and Bellas body, on the other hand, are pressed as far as possible into the corners furthest from him.

Rosalie finishes dragging the cage onto the beach, and then stands sentry in front of it with her arms crossed. Like a good soldier, she doesn't give her naked and imprisoned husband a second glance.

"Und you helped me identify the best, which I haff transformed into my minions, as you see here. But now, now, you vill help me identify the best of the best—one of you two vill become the leader uff my new, elite battalion. Congratulations, Alucard und Herr Integra. You haff been identified by your peers as the best. But I only need one leader. So ve shall decide who that is, und then, once you are properly transformed, to make sure the transformation is complete und your loyalties lie only with me, your first task vill be to destroy the runner up."

Integra snorts. "That will never happen. You may have been able to prey o weaker, more subservient minds, but you'll never get my vampire and I to turn on each other. We have a bond stronger than anything you can fathom, and it shall never be broken."

Alucard looks on her with pride and appreciation. That's nice and all, but Integra rather wishes he'd look a little more…oh, I don't know…_fierce_?

This entire time, Deadpool has been sternly examining the neo-Nazis. "Wait a minute…so one of them is Alice?" No one answers, so he continues scanning and locks in on Seras. "How you doin'" he says in his best Joey Tribbiani. Even though she is green and crusted over, he knows that nothing _this_ good ever came out of Twilight. His eyes flick to Alice and narrow. He struts over to her.

"Think it's funny, do you? Crushing my hope? My joy? My very reason for existence?" he accuses.

Alice had been staring vacantly forward, but now she raises an eyebrow and turns her eyes questioningly toward the Major. He shrugs. Alice moves her eyes back to her masked assailant, who without warning slides two criss-crossing katanas from his back and slashes one and then the other at her neck.

Just as swiftly, the smallest Cullen knocks them both away with her forearms.

"You busted my katanas!" Deadpool shouts as he examines the mangled blades. He looks at Alice to see that she is completely unharmed, although a layer of green has been knocked away, revealing marble white beneath. "You rotten little minx!"

He pulls out his Uzis, but both are knocked out of his hands by Alice's companions. Within milliseconds, he finds himself pinned to the sand with Edward straddling his hips, Jasper holding down his feet, Alice locking one wrist down, and Seras sitting on his opposite hand. Zombie-Walter stands above, making sure the perp is properly secured.

"Ugh," Deadpool groans. "This is just like a fantasy I was having the other day. Except you were a chick," he says to Edward and then nods to indicate Jasper and Alice, "And you two were a pair of iron manacles, and you" he turns to gaze at Seras," were exactly like that…only maybe a little less verdigris."

"What are you waiting for?" Alucard chides the Major. "He's not part of your plans, an uninvited guest. Why don't you give the order to kill him?"

"How kind uff you to concern yourself vith my affairs. But I assure you, our unexpected guest plays a pivotal role. He is going to decide your fates. The final vote to cast is his."

"Seriously?" Deadpool asks.

"Da," the Major confirms.

"Well, that makes absolutely no sense," Deadpool notes. "But then, neither have a lot of other things in this fic, so why the hell not? I accept this honor, but only on one condition—I want that Jeff Probst guy to read the vote."  
The Major begins to object.

"Probst reads it or I don't vote," Deadpool insists.

"Fine. Send in Probst," the Major says into what appears to be a small microphone attached to his lapel.

A few moments later, Probst comes walking up the beach, sandy as ever. He's wearing no protective gear, other than a leather eye patch, but oddly, Alucard doesn't seem even a smidge inclined to attack him. He's apparently gotten that out of his system.

The host approaches, parchment and Sharpie in hand, and a look of disgust crosses his face when he gets a good look at the Major's new battalion. "Aw man, they all look so cool, and I look like a sandcastle," he complains. He leans down and impetuously shoves the Sharpie in Deadpool's free hand and holds the parchment near so the captive can write on it. "Remember, this vote is for the winner."

Deadpool wears a satisfied grin, not that anyone can see it beneath that mask. "Let's see here, who should it be?" His expression suddenly turns dour. "But this choice is really just an illusion…the secret society of Secuutus DeLeo has already determined the winner by use of their dark and mysterious arts…even still, _I'm_ the one with the Sharpie in my hand!" And just like that, his mood is suddenly back to chipper. "And I can think of one little lady that's going to be awfully sorry that she ate my sandwich."

The small bump beneath his mask would indicate that his tongue protrudes from his mouth as he scribbles onto the parchment. When he finishes, Probst folds the paper in half and then goes to stand by the Major.

"Herr Probst, vill you please read the vote, the vote that vill determine who is my new first in command und who is the next victim."

Ever vigilant, Integra has scanned the area and detected Leon Kennedy up in one of the trees with his weapon trained on Alucard, should the ancient vampire try to do anything. Curiously, the vampire _isn't _doing anything…at all. Nor is he mentally communicating with Integra anymore; he's cut that connection off.

"Kennedy's in the tree," she mutters under her breath to him.

"Yes, I know," he murmurs back. His steadiness indicates to Integra that her primary weapon has a solid plan to get out of this, and while she's miffed that he's not sharing it with her, she's all out of strategies and decides to trust him on this. She'll wait for his cue.

"And the winner of Survivor: Vampire Island is," Probst announces and then pauses for dramatic effect. "Alucard!"

Integra rolls her eyes. She can't believe the masked schizophrenic psycho actually denied her the title of "Sole Survivor" just because of a little roast beef. But the blow to her competitive ego is quickly overridden by the realization of what this means—the Major and his idiots are going to attempt to convert Alucard. The No-Life King! He's going to annihilate them. He's going to tear out their organs, one by one, just so he can prolong their agonizing screams. He's going to make them wish their mothers had never spread their legs for their fathers. He's going to…kneel down in the sand and…bow down before her? Huh?

"My master, I beg you to forgive me for what it is I must do after I've been changed. You must understand that it's nothing personal, but I'll have a new master and—"

"Get up!" she shouts, and he obeys, but the somber look in his eyes remains. "You're just going to let them change you? No fighting back?" She focuses all of her mental energy on him. _I see that this is part of your plan, but how do you want me to react?_

Alucard's mind remains silent to her, and he turns to passively watch the Major approach.

Integra's head whips around, taking in everyone else on the beach—her former servants, Walter and Seras, in their Nazi uniforms; her former allies, the zombified Cullens and that bastard Deadpool, even he turned on her in the vote. Her head jerks up to look toward the trees where she sees her former mercenary, Leon Kennedy, solidly back in the Major's corner. And she thinks of Zohall Mercer and how foolish she'd been to believe…hope…that his loyalty to her had been about more than the money she was paying him. There is no one left for her to count on.

She's suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to order someone around. She spies the bunny in the sand. "You there!" she shouts.

The rabbit turns to look over its shoulder and then back at Integra.

"Yes you. Stop him!" She flings her arm out to point at the Major who is ever closer.

Bunnicula cocks its head at her and begins furiously tapping a furry back foot.

Integra grits her teeth. "Look, I'm sorry that I suspected you of being a traitor earlier."

The rabbit's ears stick straight up in the air, and it turns the openings toward her, as if to say "I'm listening."

"Well, you have to admit, the circumstances were suspicious…leading us right into to the maze of death, emptying Alucard's weapons..." The rabbit's foot is tapping again, so Integra quickly amends. "But I was wrong about you, I admit it. You're an upstanding and worthy serva—soldier. Now _please_, attack!"

After a pleased nod of its head, the vampire rabbit spins around and launches up and off the sand onto the Major's plentiful gut. Its fangs sink in, and everyone on the beach is surprised by a loud *POP* A gust of air blows the stunned rabbit off and back onto the sand. The Major is suddenly looking a lot thinner.

"Wh-wha-wHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Integra shouts.

The Major fumbles with the front of his jacket while everyone else looks around wide-eyed at each other. After a few moments of what appears to be quiet panic, all eyes turn up the beach to where a figure has appeared in the distance. Everyone, including Integra, merely watches the approaching man; no one is paying any attention to the Major's rapidly decreasing waistline.

The man wears a light-colored suit over a tan, button-down shirt, open at the neck. He walks at a fast, yet casual pace, with one hand in his pocket. He's tall and lean, but with a confidence of movement that indicates a killer physique underneath all that fabric. As he comes closer, he uses his free hand to push long, dark bangs out of his deep brown, come-back-to-bed-baby eyes. When he gets close, he observes the scene and smirks. The half-smile gives his already perfect visage a new brilliance. Edward Cullen ain't got nothin' on this guy.

Green-Alice releases her grip on Deadpool and jumps over to Jasper. She bounces up and down and claps her hands in between slapping Jasper in the shoulder. "See! See! I told you he would be here!"

The new arrival is Ashton Kutcher.

Integra isn't familiar with the actor, but recognizes the movie-star quality about him. Just before she can start once again fruitlessly demanding answers, the Major blurts, "Dude, lemme say it! Please, please, please? C'mon!"

Kutcher looks at him and nods. "Have at it, brother."

What's left of the Major turns to Integra and says, "Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing." He lets loose his grip on his waistband and steps out of his pants, revealing a pair of skinny legs in Hawaii-patterned swim trunks.

"You ha_ff..._" He steps toward her and scratches his fingers through his straight, dark-blond hair, knocking it out of its gelled, disciplined coif into a mess that falls around his face.

"Been…" He's directly in front of her now and reaches across his face to pull off a stretchy, rubbery fat mask that had been attached to his much thinner face with itchy, burning adhesives. Remnants of rubber and glue still stick to his pale skin, but these are very clearly the sharp, handsome features of Zohall Mercer.

"Punked," he finishes and gives Integra a small kiss on the tip of her nose.

The Hellsing leader feels disoriented, as if her brain has been removed and replaced with something pink and fuzzy. "I…you…bu-…punked? You mean, none of this…" she stammers as her eyes roam from side to side, seeing everyone else looking at her and smiling.

She hears a low chuckle from behind and spins to face Alucard. "You knew! For how long?" Her confusion has waned, and she is now furious.

"Only since the Major here turned around to face us on the beach. That's when I saw it all. My first instinct was to massacre them all to spare you the knowledge of their deception, but then the false Major said something that made me change my mind."

"Oh, really? And what was that?" Integra snaps.

"That you're adorable when you're angry," Alcuard answers. "He's right, you know."

Integra's face wrinkles in disgust and she turns to the Cullens. The cage walls have fallen away and they all stand by their respective mates. "And all of you!"

Edward holds up his hands. "I promise, we didn't know a thing until after we were taken away from the island. We fell for it too."

"And then you went along with it," Integra spits. "Walter, I never thought I'd see the day you turned traitor. And Seras—how could you?"

"I'm sorry, Sir Integra. It's just…it was…um…funny." Seras bites her lip to hold in a laugh.

Various snickers and sorts break out among the group.

"Oh, fine! Just bloody fine! I don't need any of you." Integra turns and starts to stomp away, but she notices the rabbit lying in the sand, watching the trees. "Except you," she says and scoops him up. "All I need is this rabbit, and…and…" Her shoulders start to convulse up and down, and then a squawking sound escapes from her throat, and then another, and before anyone knows it, Integra Hellsing is full-on laughing. Tears leak out of her eyes, and she bends double and grips her contracting stomach. The rabbit jumps away just in time to avoid being squished. If nothing else, relief is fueling her giddiness.

The rest of the Survivors and crew breathe a collective sigh of relief and come over to clap Integra on the back and assure her that it was all in good fun. Leon jumps down from the tree and joins them. Integra wipes away the tears as her laughter subsides. But then she realizes something and turns to Zohall.

"But you and Probst, we heard you I the cave. You were talking about your boss—who's that then?"

"Ah, Mark Burnett. The guy's a genius," Zohall answers. "See, he has 'people' and they told him about this hard core Nazi revival organization that had been busted in South America and incarcerated. Before the Brazilian government could go public with the arrests and leak the whole back story to the press, Burnett got a brilliant idea. See, the supernatural criminals were obviously going to be a challenge to dispose of, right? So Burnett swooped in and told the Brazilians how they could get rid of them while making a quick buck. He designed this whole show and structured challenges that would ensure the Millennium soldiers would be eliminated. And boy did you guys come through. 'Specially you, A-dog."

"I think I like this Burnett fellow," Alucard says.

Everyone has a good natured chuckle, and then the Cullens and Walter head into the ocean to clean up and goof off before the big boat comes to take them back home. Edward doesn't think it's funny at all when Zohall, Leon, and Probst come splashing in and start up a game of water volleyball using Bella's head as the ball.

"Come on, Edward; we're just having some fun!" Bella complains as her head goes sailing over him.

Seras stands at the edge of the water, wishing she could join them. But the shore doesn't look too bad at all when Leon swims over, pulls off his soaking wet T-shirt, and offers to help wipe down some of her difficult-to-reach body parts.

Integra stands with Alucard and Kutcher. "What about the million dollars?" she asks. "Will Alucard get it, after all?"

"Ooh." Kutcher winces. "Technically he does win the million, but you really should've read the fine print on the contract—he's gotta cover cost of damage, and what he did back there in that first cave…" He gives a low whistle, which tells Integra that her organization is never going to see a shilling of that money.

"I suppose you'll need to add on the cost of the idol, too. My vampire threw it in the ocean."

"Ah no, that one's on us. You did us a favor getting rid of it—that thing was creepy. We just found it here, hidden in the hollow of a tree, when we were scouting the location and thought it looked cool, so we decided to use it as the idol. But then things got weird with it. Things we couldn't explain. Oh yeah, speaking of weird and unexplained things, who was that red dude…and where is he?"

Alucard and Integra look around and shrug. He's nowhere to be seen. They look out to the ocean to see if he's with the others, while Kutcher examines the tree line. His eyes grow big and round, and a look of abject terror covers his beautiful face. "What the hell?" he squeaks.

Alucard and Integra follow his gaze to see a massive being emerging from the forest. It's in the shape of a large…ah…um…a very, very big…oversized…rabbit? But it's hardly fuzzy. Instead it's got a sickly sheen over its bumpy, gray surface. The creature lets loose a hideous roar and the smell of decay bursts out over the entire beach. The beast steps clear of the tree line and they can see that he's made up of hundreds and hundreds of random, atrophied limbs. Small ones, large ones, arms, legs, even skulls. Slimy, grey flesh and muscle barely cling to the structure and peel of and drop with each movement.

But what's almost more shocking than the appearance of this monster, is who appears to be leading it. Way down below the towering creature is the vampire bunny. It's turned, facing the Survivors, and with one angry flick of its ear toward them, the giant beast roars again, spewing rotted bits of debris out of its mouth, and then it takes off to attack.

"Why you little Bunnydict Arnold," Alucard sneers, but anyone can hear the pride in his voice at what his furry childe has accomplished all by its wittle self. "Your permissions, master?"

"Whatever you need," Integra answers as she leads Ashton away from what is sure to be mayhem.

Alucard disintegrates into a haze of black mist that seeps in between the wretched bones. His voice emanates from everywhere as he laughs that deep, ominous laugh. The gino-bunny bursts into a million flying, putrid pieces. They scatter all over the beach, and some fly into the water. As soon as they land, fingers, femurs, tibias, and spines move together to form several smaller fiends.

Alucard's mist reforms into an enormous hellhound and chomps down onto three at a time, one in each mouth, and rips them apart. He tears into several more with his front paws, and when one latches relentlessly onto his hind haunch, the bone-critter is splintered by a granite hand. The hound turns back to see a jovial Emmett.

"No way am I letting you have all the fun!" the bulkiest Cullen grunts and then digs in for more.

Leon tosses Integra a rifle and they both open fire on the stampeding devils, kicking sand up everywhere. Walter reaches the shore, and his wires skillfully slice apart bone and cartilage before they can begin to reform into anything. Zohall coaxes ten snarling beasts into surrounding him, and then pulls out his gleaming sword, cleverly concealed in his large Major jacket, and swiftly demolishes them all.

"Aw, come here, little fella," Seras coos to a tiny creature comprising only carpals and tarsals. It comes close, and Seras lets it crawl onto the palm of her hand. Right before it bites, she clenches her fist around it and watches the green slime mixed with bone dust ooze out between her fingers.

Kutcher and Probst stand to the side and high five each other. "This. Is. Awesome," Kutcher twitters.

The vampire rabbit also stands to the side and does not think the destruction of his creation is at all awesome. He narrows his eyes at the reality show hosts.

"Uh, dude," Probst says nodding toward the undead rabbit and tapping the back of his hand on Kutcher's arm.

"Oh shit!"

The rabbit launches at them, and they both take off running into the fray, dodging and diving behind the other moving parts.

The shallows of the water are equally active. The bone-barbarians that had landed in the water have formed into fishy shapes, but they can only last so long without air and need to get to land. The seven Cullens in the water are making sure that doesn't happen. They dive and splash and wrestle the constructions to hold them below the surface.

At one point, a creature mistakes Bella's cranium as one of them and attaches to it. The mangled bones propel her screaming head through the water.

"Edwaarrd!"

Edward slams into the side of it's body, and Esme grasps onto her daughter-in-law's head as she goes rolling by, detaching it from the conglomeration of bones, which Edward makes quick work of.

From across the water, further out to sea, the brawl looks like some sort of volcanic eruption, with sand and water spurting up in random patterns and occasional bits of debris flying through the air. This far out, the sounds of clashing bone on granite and rounds of gunfire are barely audible. The vampires and humans will surely grind every last ghoulish bunny bone to dust in the end, but they've got a lot of pent up aggression to work off, so they're going to take their sweet time doing it.

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~.~.~.~.~

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The water out here is a clear, crystal blue, although visibility only extends so far before the several hundred fathoms beneath the surface cloud and disappear, keeping their secrets safe from the world above. But something reaches up from the depths, a secret that no longer wants to be kept. A pulse of light. And then another.

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~.~.~.~.~

_The End_

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**Author's Notes:**

Well, that's it. Over a year-and-a-half I've been working on this story and now it's over. :( Wait a minute…_almost_ over. We've still got that epilogue from Metro K to come, remember? He's going to show us what happens to the Hellsing crew when they return to jolly old England. Look for that soon, and I just might, might, might conjure up an epi-II, in which we'll witness the aftermath at the Cullen household.

I'll admit that I rather feel like listing out thank yous Oscar-style, here, because there are SO many to give, but *sigh* I won't. Just promise me that you'll take the thank yous from throughout the text and triple them, 'kay?

Thanks for this particular chapter go to:

**Metropolis Kid** for helping me out w/ Deadpool facts (and for bringing him into the story to begin with) and for the "happy to see me" line.

**EZB** for the inspiration for the bone-beast (a much, much more impressive one lives in his story: The Hellsing War Chronicles - which is also the home to Zohall Mercer, Bzy's incredible OC).

**Master of the Boot** for doing such lasting damage to Bella's head a few chapters ago—I had lots of fun with that. :)

And one big, whopping, overall Thank You to Master of the Boot for bringing me over to Hellsing in the first place and indirectly introducing me to all of you. I've dabbled in other fandoms, but none can hold a candle to Hellsing as far as enthusiasm, feedback, diversity, and general coolness. I have met honest-to-God friends through this story, and that's amazing to me. So, I guess that's another thanks—thank you for coming back again and again and making this whole experience so very much fun!

-LiLa


	21. Epilogue: After the Final Ghoul Bone

****Written by Metropolis Kid****

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Epilogue

After the Final Ghoul Bone

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"I still don't understand why I have to go on this 'reality' show with him," the monster complained.

"Because, Alucard," his master replied as she paused and cast her eyes around the ruin that had once been her mansion, "we need the money. We ended up coming away from Vampire Island with a big, fat nothing. So we have to find some other way to raise the funds needed to get the Hellsing Organization back on its feet."

"I understand that," the vampire replied sounding a tad offended by the fact his master felt it necessary to explain the situation to him like he was some absent-minded fool who'd forgotten it. "What I don't understand is why it has to be with _him_. Why can't I partner up with one of you?"

"Because, _you_ are not a geek," Integra replied simply.

"I'm not much of a beauty either," the vampire grumbled.

"Perhaps not…but you can become one. Speaking of which, he should be here soon, you best…get changed."

Alucard groaned.

"Yes, Master, spit-spot," Seras chirped in enthusiastically. Integra had told the young fledgling a few stories about her school days, and the strawberry blonde was curious to see if her master's appearance matched the one she'd imagined in her mind.

Alucard's eyes narrowed. "'Spit-spot?' he repeated. "Something tells me you're enjoying this far too much, Police Girl," he warned, and Seras's previous enthusiasm vanished as she shifted nervously and refused to make eye contact with her master.

It was more important now than ever that she not provoke him. She had the welfare of her new pet bunny to consider, after all. One false step and Alucard would follow through on his multitude of threats to annihilate that 'traitorous fur ball' once and for all. But Seras knew that deep down the vampire rabbit was good and that she was just the one to reform it. She would forever be grateful to Sir Integra for letting her keep the undead critter after it had survived the unfortunate incident back at the island.

"Alucard?" Integra asked.

"Yes, Master?" the monster replied as he turned back to the tall, platinum blonde.

"'Play' with the Police Girl on your own time. Right now we have a schedule to keep."

The centuries old killer sighed resolutely. "Yes, Master," and with that, Alucard's imposing form melted into that of a young, teenage girl. "Happy?" the girly-card asked in a uniquely feminine tone.

"Not quite," Integra answered, "You look too young. No one's going to let a twenty-two-year-old geek be paired up with a fifteen year old 'beauty.' You're going to need to be a little more… mature."

The vampiric shapeshifter rolled 'her' eyes passive-aggressively. "You mean I need a bigger bust size."

"Couldn't hurt," Integra replied, ignoring the slight insubordination.

And the monster sighed again. Then it grew by nearly a foot, mostly in the legs. The almost cherubim face sallowed till it was sharply defined, angular. And the bosom swelled until it _almost_ rivaled that of the short strawberry-blonde standing a little ways off. "Alright, will this do? Or are there other indignities you wish to subject me to?"

Flames sparked in Integra's blue eyes. "Surely you don't mean to imply that there's something undignified about being a woman," she responded in a warning tone.

"Not in and of itself, no. But to go on a TV show and be paraded around as a 'beauty' – all emphasis being placed on the physical appearance - well, it's not all that far removed from peddling ones… 'wares' on a street corner now is it? I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now."

Integra wasn't sure what that last line was about, but she latched onto the one preceding it. "Yet, you were just fine with the idea of sticking me…or Officer Victoria in the 'beauty' role."

Alucard huffed slightly but said nothing. What could he say? She had him this time. It didn't happen often, but every once in a while, his master would manage to outmaneuver him. Then the monster's female lips cracked into a subtle grin. Integra was learning.

It was at that moment that Walter entered the room with a skinny young man in thick, wide-rimmed glasses at his side. "Master Steven has arrived," the butler replied formally and had to raise his hand and fake a cough to cover up the small laugh when he saw his old partner's new look.

The geek, Steven, held out a bouquet of flowers. "Alison, good to see you again."

For the second time, the monster rolled her eyes. "Let's just get this over with." She stood, grabbed her geek by his hand and half led, half pulled him out of the room, down the hall, and towards the mansion's leaning front doors.

"Alison!" Integra called after the departing pair, and the monster stopped and turned back. "If there are any decorating contests, remember that we're not in medieval times anymore. Iron Maidens in the bedroom aren't going to score you many points with the other beauties."

"Master," the monster began in a faux offended tone. "If there's one thing I know, it's how to score with women in the bedroom department." 'Her' lip curled slyly.

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**Author's Note**

And there you have Metropolis Kid's epilogue. :)

HUGE thanks to him for all of his help and support throughout this story, including the donation of this hilarious epilogue. If you don't already know, Steven is a character from le Kid's very funny "Integra's School Daze." The only thing I contributed here was one teensy paragraph (bonus points if you can guess which one) and the title. And I'm curious, does anyone at all get the joke in the epilogue's title? Or am I the only one willing to fess up to watching _that _show? O_o

I do plan on one day giving you "After the Final Ghoul Bone" from the Cullen's perspective (don't act like you don't care what happens to them), but not for a wHile. If you find yourself hankering for more S:VI, you can check out Master of the Boot's "Survivor: Vampire Island the Director's Cut" at his profile. It's more violent, more disturbing, more Boot.

And coming soon...

Later this month, Metropolis Kid will begin posting the sequel to his Star Wars/Hellsing crossover, "Such a Quiet Thing to Fall." If you haven't read the original yet, get on it.

And I'll begin posting the sequel to my Harry Potter story, "Professor Burbage and the Potions Master."

In the meantime, feel free to check out my profile and click on the link to my Nicki Elson website. I'd love to see you there. Thanks again so very much for being such lovely readers, reviewers, and voters. I've had an absolute blast on Vampire Island. ;)

-LiLa


	22. Epi2: In which we have fun with Cullens

**Epi 2**

**In which we have fun with Cullens**

Carlisle Cullen is happy. No, happy isn't strong enough—he's blissful, delighted, and gratified. Today is the day the members of his undead family become productive members of society. He always knew it would happen. He's even convinced himself he's happy the Survivor gig didn't pan out as hoped. Another easy million isn't what they need—_this_ is where the Lord has been leading them all along.

Mondays are his days off from the hospital, so today he'd been around to send his wife and children off to their new jobs after a nutritious breakfast of black-tailed deer and bald eagle. It had seemed a shame to leave the baby birds in the nest to fend for themselves, so they'd sucked them dry as well. But Carlisle has learned something from his Native American brethren and uses every part of the animal. Right now, he's sprucing up his pristine home in the forest with a duster made from feathers "donated" by the very eagle he ate this morning.

Now that his lil' Esme is a full-time working woman, he realizes he'll need to help out more with the housework. Not that he minds. He finds there is something therapeutic and freeing in the mindless activity. And since he's home all alone for the first time in decades, he doesn't see any harm in donning his wife's frilly, white apron while he does it. Yes, Carlisle Cullen is a content man as he swishes his feathers, twirls in his apron, and reflects with satisfaction on this new chapter in his family's life.

It had been a bonding and encouraging exercise to help each other select suitable positions. Esme had been the easiest to place. The nurturing, turbo-housewife is off working at a daycare center, where her ultra mothering tendencies will no doubt be much appreciated. Rosalie opted for the opposite side of the spectrum. She's finally putting her law degree to use and was hired almost immediately as the junior partner at a high profile litigation firm in Olympia.

Emmett and Alice, the liveliest of the bunch, have appropriately found work in the entertainment industry. Always the clown, Emmett secured a position as a Funny Bunny. He'd left this morning dressed up as a giant pink rabbit, destined to entertain guests at three separate children's birthday parties. Alice, meanwhile, has a gig as the perky assistant to a magician.

Jasper had surprised everybody by becoming an entrepreneur. He purchased a frozen banana stand down by the beach after being advised by J. Jenks—a rather sketchy attorney Jasper sometimes "consults" with—that_ there's_ _always money in the banana stand_. But Edward's choice of employment is perhaps even more shocking. He's been hired as a clerk at Wal-Mart. Yep, blue smock and everything. He's explained his hopes of bringing the "normals" who shop there up a notch by exposing them to his superior culture and refinement.

Bella was the only one who refused to go along with what she calls _a mockery of vampirism_. She's been there and done that with working at Newton Olympic Outfitters after school and isn't interested in becoming an everyday schlep again.

"I ain't gonna do it. I ain't gonna do it, I tell ya!" she'd shouted and then packed up herself and her daughter and flew to Florida, where she'll stay in the shade at her mother's house while she waits for the rest of them to come to their heightened senses.

Carlisle shrugs when he considers Bella's reaction and tells himself there's still time for her. She'll see how happy and fulfilled the others are, and she'll come around. He continues to dust and hum a merry little tune, thinking of all the good his family is doing out in the world.

Edward is the first to return.

When Carlisle hears tires crunch the gravel at the end of the long driveway, he hastily unties his apron and ditches it in a nearby cabinet. He hadn't expected anyone to be home again so soon.

Edward opens the door and without saying a word sulks over to the couch and slumps down into it. It's a very human action. Vampires don't need to sit and slump for comfort. He's simply being dramatic.

Carlisle quickly checks his thoughts, but Edward doesn't seem to be paying any attention to his father's musings. He's lost in his own thoughts and clearly upset.

"Was it just an orientation today?" Carlisle asks.

Edward mutters something back to him. Despite his vampiric hearing capabilities, Carlisle can't quite make it out—Edward has become quite the expert mutterer (as anyone who's read the third book in the series (wherein the word mutter is used no less than one hundred twenty-six times. _One hundred twenty-six times_!) can attest).

"Pardon?" Carlisle asks.

"I got fired," Edward enunciates. "The manager asked me to leave and never come back."

_But…you were only there a few hours_.

"Yes, I know." Edward replies. "It all started when they put me in the electronics and music department. A customer came in looking for the Lady Gaga concert DVD. I suggested she might want to consider Puccini's _Madama Butterfly_ instead. She was reluctant, so I dazzled her—only slightly—and she agreed. Then I found out our Wal-Mart doesn't stock _Madama Butterfly_, or any other operas for that matter.

"After the customer left I told the manager I had some ideas about how we could round out the store's collection, and the Neanderthal responded that I wasn't hired to think and that in the future I should simply get the customers what they ask for, not try to push my 'hoity toity horse crap' on them."

_That wasn't very polite._

"No, it wasn't. But the goon took his disregard even further by changing the radio station playing through the store's intercom. He put on 80s music, just to spite me, I'm sure. As if it isn't bad enough I had to exist through that obnoxious, cocaine-hazed decade, now the entire pop-culture is making a comeback, and he took the opportunity to torture me with that inane nonsensical jibberish they call music."

…_Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly, I will collect you and capture you_…

"Carlisle!"

_I'm sorry, please continue. _

"Well, the final straw came after he forced me to re-stock the Justin Bieber display. I was wearing the regulation, God-awful polo shirt, the hideous vest, and a name tag, and do you know how many people came up and asked me if I worked there? Six. In the forty-seven minutes I was stacking CDs next to the life-size Bieber cut out, six people asked me if I worked there. Do they think I'd _voluntarily_ dress like that and fondle a twelve-year-old's media!"

_Calm down, son, and tell me why you got fired._

Edward looked down, as if ashamed at what he was going to say next. "The seventh customer was approaching me. I could hear her thoughts. First she admired my behind, as they all do, but…dad…she wasn't just going to ask me if I worked there. She was going to ask me where she could find the Justin Bieber CDs."

He looked up at Carlisle, and his father knew that if had been physically possible, desperate tears for the downfall of humanity would have been welling in those amber eyes.

_Edward…what did you do?_

"I snapped. Hall & Oats taunted me with their peppy lyrics over the intercom, and I snapped. I ripped Bieber's head off and molded it around my face. Then I turned to the customer and said 'Are ya lookin' for me? Here I am, baby, come to papa!' and then I chased her around the store. I never intended to catch her, of course, but I wanted…I _needed_ to hear her terrified shrieks. Then I looked around at all the morons staring at me, and I shouted, 'What would Lady Gaga do?' and I tore off all of their pants so that the entire store stood around in their underwear...including my manager."

_Oh, dear. _

Another car's tires crunch the gravel.

"Jasper," Edward says, eager to get the focus off himself. "He's excited about something…bananas?"

Jasper strolls into the house whistling a Dixieland tune and hoisting a large insulated chest over his shoulder.

"What's in the cooler, son?"

"Frozen bananas on a stick. Five hundred of 'em."

"Don't you need those at the stand?" Carlisle asks.

"I've found a better use." Jasper turns and winks at his brother, and Edward sees it all.

He sees people coming up to the stand and buying Jasper's frozen, chocolate covered bananas. He reads Jasper's memory of the lusty pheromones coming off a pretty girl across the way. She'd flirted with Jasper when buying her banana a few minutes earlier. Edward watches her through Jasper's eyes, sees her flutter her lashes and give the banana a sultry full-length lick, watches her lock eyes on Jasper as she sticks the banana half way down her throat and slowly pulls it out.

Edward has unwittingly known about his brother's performance issues in the bedroom for quite some time, and now he understands exactly what Jasper intends to do with those rock hard bananas.

"But what will you sell at the stand if all the bananas are here?" Carlisle persists.

"Not our problem anymore. As a matter of fact, we ought to be getting a tidy little check for the stand," Jasper tells him.

"Oh, did you make a deal with someone?" Carlisle asks.

"You could say that." _Deal with the devil_, Jasper adds in his head just as his cell phone rings. He picks up, and everyone in the room can hear a man shrieking angrily into the other end. Something about a fire. And cash.

"Mr. Jenks, I suggest you reconsider taking that tone with me," Jasper warns and then deliberately growls. The voice on the other end quiets so that only the vampire's end of the conversation can be heard. "Uh huh … Are you talking about the insurance money? You can have the check sent right here." He winks at Carlisle but the cocky grin is soon wiped from his face. "Oh, there was no insurance policy? Huh. Well, what could a ramshackle banana stand be worth, anyhow? … A hundred K? No way. How could that piece of cra— … Oh, there were bills hidden in the walls? Why didn't you tell me?"

The volume on the other end picks up again for a few words. " … money _in_ the banana stand!"

"Ohhh yeeaaah. Hehe," Jasper responds. "Didn't realize you were being literal there, J.J. … You owed that money to who? … Ouch. Yeah, that does sound like a problem … I'll take care of it … I _said_ I'll take care of it!"

Jasper flicks his phone shut and looks to Carlisle. "Well, unless we want our friend J.J. showing up at your hospital with a couple broken arms in the near future, we're going to have to spot him a few dozen C-notes." He readjusts the cooler on his shoulder and starts walking toward the kitchen. "Time to get these puppies into the deep freeze."

Soon after Jasper disappears into the other room, yet another approach becomes audible. But no gravel crunches in the driveway. This is the sound of labored footsteps followed by an occasional thud. Carlisle and Edward exchange a confused glance.

"It feels like Alice's thoughts," the younger vampire explains. "But she's entirely focused on taking the next step, and it seems as if she's watching her feet from directly behind. It doesn't make sense."

The footsteps and occasional thud near the front door, and Carlisle opens it to find that it is indeed Alice. In two pieces. Her legs and hips stand erect, while behind them her waist sets on the ground with her arms stretched up to grip her hips. She peeks through the space between her skinny thighs.

"Thank goodness you're home, Carlisle. Brain-muscle coordination is a bitch when the muscular system's been severed. Can you help me inside?"

Carlisle assures her he'll fix her up in a jiffy. She wraps her arms around his shoulders when he stoops to pick her top half up, and Edward has joined them at the door to turn her legs sideways and tuck them under his arm.

_Lay her on the sofa, son. I don't want to alarm Alice, but I have no idea why she's not healing on her own. _

Jasper returns to find both halves of his wife lying on the couch and being inspected by Carlisle.

"Peaches, what happened?" he exclaims. "Don't try to tell me you're not in pain—I can feel it."

Alice winces. "Gob is, without doubt, the worst magician I've ever seen. He didn't get a single trick, er illusion, right. Then I had a vision of the geriatrics at Fogey Village revolting when he started pulling a string of Depends out of his sleeve. In hindsight I suppose I should've just snuck out quietly and let them beat him bloody with their canes, but…I don't know…I felt sorry for the guy. So I tried to help him out. Before the show I'd noticed a silver vampire saw in his bag of tricks."

"Why didn't you get the hell out of there right then?" Jasper scolds.

"Relax, Pooh Bear. I didn't get any visions of him intentionally hurting me. But just to be safe, I asked him about it. He had no idea what it was—said when he was in Europe he bought it cheap off some burly Scottish priest because it looked frightening and would be good for his act. So I asked him what he used it for, and he said he was too scared to touch it. After a bit of coaxing, I convinced him to use it to saw me in half. I figured there was nothing to lose—he saws me in half, the crowd is amazed, and I go behind the curtain and heal. No problem, right?

"Wrong. He sawed me in half, the audience loved it, and then he completely freaked backstage when he realized I was actually in half. To get him to shut up before attracting more attention I had to explain what I was and that I'd heal at any moment. Then he went sort of catatonic, so I figured I'd better get out of there before he came to and started sobbing and screaming again. I walked home through the forest so no one else would see me."

"Carlisle, why isn't she healing?" Jasper asks.

"You said he bought the blade from a priest, correct?" Carlisle says.

"Uh huh."

The doctor frowns. "It must've been a blessed blade. This is going to take days to heal, maybe a week."

"But she'll be okay?" Jasper persists.

"Yes. And there is a bright side to this," Carlisle adds, attempting to reassure himself that even though three of his children have already failed on their first day on the job, it's going to be okay. "While Alice isn't working anymore, at least she can't shop for another week. That ought to help the bank account."

Jasper senses Alice's guilt well up.

"Um, yeah, see, the thing is…not only is Gob a horrible magician, he's also a total bastard. He told me earlier that the Magician's Alliance has been trying to squeeze him out again, relegating him to nursing homes and subway stations, and he's been looking for a way to get back up there with the likes of Tony Wonder. But his 'tight-ass hermano' won't give him any money to buy top notch equipment for his illusions. So just as I opened the door to leave, he squeaked out that now that he knows what I am, he's going to blackmail me for a…a new Sword of Destiny or something."

Carlisle somberly nods, but before this news can fully digest, Emmett zooms through the front door without warning. He slams it behind him and presses his back against it, standing completely still while his eyes dart around. His chest and arms are bare, as are his legs. The only thing covering his burly physique is a fuzzy pink strip of fabric he holds up to cover his nether regions.

"Emmett," Edward says soothingly. "Why are you thinking about a hoard of women?"

"And why are you so scared?" Jasper asks.

The bulky Cullen jerks his head and protests too much. "I'm not afraid of women!"

Alice reaches up with one hand and grips the back of the couch, which blocks her view of Emmett, and pulls herself up. The moment her feminine shoulders and face come into view, Emmett shrieks.

"What's she doing here?" he demands.

"She lives here," Jasper answers defensively.

"Yeah, well, she's supposed to be at work." Emmett looks around. "Hey, so are you two. What the hell! Why is everyone lounging at home while I'm out there busting my rump to make a living?"

"Speaking of your rump," Alice says in a half giggle, "why is it barely covered with a pink muppet?"

"It's my costume…what's left of it."

Carlisle sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Emmett, I think you'd better just tell us what happened."

Emmett nods, takes a dramatic inhale, and tells his story. "I killed it at the first two parties. I knew I would; kids love me. And then I headed to the third party. Some idiot at the agency must've switched addresses, because this wasn't no kid party. But I didn't know that. I walked in and saw all these middle-aged ladies, figured they were the moms and the kids were out back hitting a piñata or something.

"Seemed a little odd that they were drinking mixed drinks during the day at a kid party, but hey, who'm I to judge. Especially when they were a bunch of MILFs. And they were friendly…a little too friendly, I can see now. But that's part of the schtick—suck up to the parents, cuz they're the ones who dole out the tips, so I was friendly back. When the music started and they wanted to dance, I danced. I started to get suspicious when there were still no kids. But when all the ladies sat down and started to watch me dance—and Rod Stewart started singing—I knew for sure something wasn't right."

Edward groaned when he saw what Emmett was about to tell them.

"The woman who seemed to be in charge slammed back a vodka shot and slurred 'Getting _hot_, bunny boy? Sweaty under all that fur? I say it's time to skin the wabbit.' Then she meowed."

"W-wabbit?" Alice stammers, trying to keep her laughter at bay so she can hear the rest of the story.

"Then it hit me—this was a cougar party. They were waiting for me to strip, which meant some guy from the other side of the agency was now sporting a G-string at a kiddie party, but I couldn't worry about that. I knew I had to get the hell out of there."

"So why didn't you?" Edward asks through clenched teeth.

"Gettin' to that, bro. I stopped dancing and was about to explain that I was in the wrong place, when the women all ran to their purses to pull out dollar bills. Big wads of dollar bills. And the whole point of this job thing is to make money, right? So I was on the fence about what to do, waiting for a sign, when Vanilla Ice started playing, and I took that as a cue, cuz 'Nilla Ice is my boy. So it all seemed to come together and…shut up, Edward!"

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but you're thinking it. I swear I thought I was doing the right thing. I was just gonna let 'em have a harmless look at Vampire Ice, collect my money, and get outta there."

"And…" Jasper, Alice, and Carlise prompt at the same time.

"_And_, I had no idea middle-aged human women could be that aggressive. They didn't want to just look. Once I unzipped the back, just a little, and they felt my smooth, icy goodness, they couldn't get enough. They were all over me. The costume didn't rip _itself_ to pieces."

"Are you trying to say you were held against your will by a bunch of _humans_?" Edward asked incredulously.

"They were surrounding me. Caressing me, moaning about the hardness of my muscles, shivering at the sensual coolness of my flesh. I don't know if any of you have ever been in that situation, but it's pretty fricking hot. Don't tell Rosie, but there were parts of me that didn't want to leave—one particularly _huge_ part, if you know what I'm saying. Don't look at me like that, Alice! My brain overpowered Big E and I beat it outta there, even though I knew it meant pissing off the client and losing my job."

"Well, I do give you a lot of credit for that," Alice concedes.

"Yeah dude, those kinds of pheromones aren't easy to pull away from," Jasper agrees.

Edward reluctantly nods his head in approval of his brother's will power.

"You…you said something about dollars?" Carlisle asks hopefully.

Emmett feels around his fur. "Uh, yeah, guess they must've all blown away as I ran home. Too bad—I signed a waiver accepting full financial responsibility for the costume should it get damaged. I imagine these things are none too cheap."

Emmett's eyes suddenly open wide. "Oh shit! Rosalie's coming. I'm not gonna have time to change first."

The door flies open, and a perfectly coiffed Rosalie struts in with her customary cat-like smirk. Yellow canary feathers wouldn't look at all out of place jutting from between her glossy pink lips. She glances at her scantily clad husband, and Jasper senses a spike in her arousal. _Looks like he wants to play convert gay Tarzan again tonight, _Edward hears in her thoughts.

"Got a lot of casework to do at home?" Carlisle asks tentatively with a glance at her brief case.

"Oh, just the one case, really," she answers as she lifts her hand to inspect her polished fingernails.

Carlisle can't stop the relieved chuckle that escapes. Rosalie is pulling in a bigger income than the rest of the others combined, so as long as she stays in her firm's good graces, they'll be just fine.

"Well, dear, why don't you tell us all about it—what you can without breaking attorney-client privilege, of course. Not that you can hide it from Edward." Carlisle allows himself another chuckle.

"Yes, Rosalie," Edward says, training a stony glare on his sister. "Why don't you tell Carlisle all about the _brand_ _new_ case."

"Not much to it, really," Rosalie says, turning to face Carlisle. "The senior partner who was assigned to mentor me got a little handsy. I asked him to stop. He didn't."

Emmett emits a low growl as he studies his wife's curves, which are being hugged in the most tantalizing of ways by her tailored suit.

"Don't worry, babe," Rosalie consoles. "He won't be using those handsies again for quite some time. I made sure of that."

Emmett grins and Rosalie winks.

"You mean to say…you mean to say that _you're _the one being sued?" Carlisle asks.

Rosalie's already across the room and snuggling with her mostly-naked mate. "Huh? Oh, yep. The papers are being drawn up right now." She goes back to rubbing noses with her husband while he grabs a large piece of that fine ass he alone is allowed to touch without repercussions.

Edward feels more smug than usual as he's returned to favorite child status in his foster father's mind. _Son, you may have been the first to get fired, but you're the only one who hasn't ended up _costing_ me money today_.

"Oh wait a minute," Rosalie says, pulling herself temporarily off of Emmett. "Make that two cases. Wal-Mart is one of the firm's biggest clients. And just before the 'incident' with Handsy McGee, we got a call from them about some pretentious boob causing a ruckus at the Forks site." Her cotton candy lips spread wide. "I knew immediately it could only be our Edward."

Edward narrows his eyes and growls. She sticks her tongue out at him and shrieks when Emmett pulls her back into him and starts nibbling on her neck. Jasper feels a conflicted vibe roll off of Edward as he watches his sexy sister squirm. Bella's going to have to come home soon or that boy's going to explode. Jasper looks down at Alice—both halves. He wonders how much she's even going to be able to feel the bananas with her brain cut off from the lower nervous system.

Carlisle stands amidst the roomful of undead pervs and thinks about his own wife. On a much higher plane, of course. He's feeling a tremendous sense of pride in her as he looks at his watch. Her shift has just ended. She's done it. She's made it through the whole day, and together she and Carlisle will tough it out and support the family. A true team.

He hears her car pull up and suppresses a suddenly ravenous impulse. He wants his luscious wife now more than he's ever wanted anything in his entire existence. Her petite footsteps fall across the front porch, and he rushes to the door to open it and gaze upon his beloved.

Her formerly crisp white blouse is now half untucked from her knee-length plaid skirt and streaked with a rainbow of markers and fingerpaints. The hair she'd so neatly pulled back into a bun earlier that day has been ripped free of its bonds and stands out from her head, a Medusa of tangles with small bits of…something…scattered throughout. Her eyes—normally soft and lustrous—seem vacant, and the circles of mascara smeared beneath make them appear sunken. A rancid odor wafts through the air toward Carlisle, confirming that the chunks clinging to her snarls are, in fact, vomit.

"My heavens, what happened to you?" he asks.

Esme moves her lips and nods her head as if she's speaking, but nothing comes out other than an incoherent squeak.

"Come, my dear," the good doctor says and steps behind her, putting a hand at the small of her back to guide her into their home. He narrows his eyelids as they step toward the sofa. He's certain his vampiric senses must deceive him, because a black scrawl across his wife's back seems to spell out _Die Bitch_.

Esme is so distraught, Alice doesn't even complain when Carlisle quickly shoves both her halves in opposite directions to seat Esme comfortably between them. He kneels in front of his wife and gently takes her hand—all she does is stare catatonically forward. Carlisle doesn't take his eyes from his wife, but everyone else turns to Edward for explanation.

Edward shrugs. "I can't see anything. Her mind is blank. Completely blank."

"Darling," Carlisle pleads. "Please talk to us. What happened to you?"

There is no response.

"Don't worry, my love," Carlisle resumes. "We'll get you through this. Maybe you just weren't ready for the Caterpillar Room. Why don't you talk to your boss about a transfer up to Butterflies when you go in tomorrow?"

Esme tilts her head to look down at him. "T-t-t…?"

"Yes, yes, dear," Carlisle says with a warm smile. "Tomorrow, when you go back to Sunnyside Daycare."

A high pitched whine from Esme's throat soon grows into an all out marrow-curdling scream. She shakes her head violently from side to side while she claws Carlisle's forearms. "No! Not going back! Not ever going back! No, no, _no_!"

"For God's sake, Carlilse!" Rosalie scolds as she comes over to the couch. "Move your ass, Alice." Alice bends her legs and scotches her hips and butt to clear a space next to her foster mother. Rosalie plops on the couch and cradles Esme, soothing her down to a soft weeping with her whispers, "Don't listen to him. You don't ever have to go back. Never again." She fixes a hard glare on Carlisle.

The Cullen patriarch's shoulders slump. "Of course you don't, darling."

Rosalie picks a hunk of baby barf out of Esme's dark hair and flicks it at Edward. "Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here," Rosalie says in a voice that's gentler than anyone has ever heard it before.

Esme wraps her arms around Rosalie's waist and clings to her. "There were so many of them," she murmurs in a far away voice. "Crying and squealing. And the fluids leaking out of them…" She gives her head a shake. "But I knew to expect this, and it was nothing I couldn't handle. Everything was fine. We were having fun…one of the babies even started calling me mommy."

Her long eyelashes lower in embarrassment.

"I know I should've stopped him…but even though I pretend to be everyone's mother, no one's ever actually called me mommy. It felt nice. So I let him. And he seemed to like it. I was the only teacher he wanted to pick him up, and soon I was carrying him everywhere."

Esme's eyebrows pull together and she lifts her head from Rosalie's shoulder.

"That's when things started to get strange. At times I could understand him perfectly—in that funny little English accent of his—and at other times he spoke in pure gibberish. But even when I couldn't understand him, I could tell he wasn't pleased when I gave the other children attention. So I told him, 'Stewart, you are not the only child here, and it is my job to care for all of you equally, so you either stop biting the others, or I'm going to have to put you in a time out.'

"At first I thought he took my lecture to heart, and he very sweetly asked if he could play hair dresser. I naturally said yes, and he did…this." She gestures toward the monstrosity on her head. "Many of the other children were too frightened to come near me after that, and when I saw him slip something—I realized too late it was ipecac—into the bottle of a baby that didn't mind my new hairdo, I knew he'd done this on purpose. So I put him in the time out corner with the other naughty children.

"That was my biggest mistake." Esme's voice begins to tremble. "The next mistake was turning my back on the lot of them while I read _The Monster at the End of This Book_ to the rest of the children. I was almost at the end, at the part where Grover is begging and begging not to turn the last page. You remember," she says, looking up at Emmett.

He nods and asks, "Did ya read it with the Grover voice?"

"Yes. And the children were on the edge of their seats—just like you always are—when…when…" She speeds through the rest of her story with each word slightly higher-pitched than the one before it. "Before I'd even finished turning the page, the Time Out Gang burst forth from the corner with Stewart as their leader, and they…they attacked me! If I wasn't as solid as granite and immortal, I swear they would've killed me!" She collapses back onto Rosalie and sobs violently.

Her pseudo-children all groan in sympathy over their adopted mother's ordeal, and Carlisle once again attempts to console himself. "I'm sure I can pick up some overtime at the hospital," he sighs.

_So much for long days alone with the frilly, white apron._

"What's that?" Edward asks, turning away from Esme to look at his father.

_Oh, nothing._

_._

_._

**Author's Note: **

Okay, NOW this story is officially finito. I had _way_ too much fun writing this second epilogue. But before I go taking too much credit, I must tell you that the premise was all Metropolis Kid's brilliant idea – sparked by an early chapter in the story where Carlisle felt frustrated that none of his family seemed willing to pull their own weight. Bit by bit Metro and I brainstormed _un_gainful employment for all the feckless Cullens, and then I got to imagine how it would play out. I hope you enjoyed the end result. ;)


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